Choosing to be Straight

I come from a very conservative background. My parents are exceedingly religious and, to a point, homophobic. Needless to say, I have not come out to them as being bisexual; in my opinion, at this point in my life, it would cause far more harm than good.

This creates an interesting predicament for me: as bi, I could simply choose to be with men. Overall, making that decision would make my life a hell of a lot easier. I would never have to explain myself to my family, never have to worry about being disowned or abandoned by people I love, never have awkward moments with my mom in which I have to skirt my sexuality with very clever (not really) wordplay. While my sexuality is not a choice, my actions are, and my actions could fit into the heteronormative lifestyle my parents would prefer.

Mom and Dad Approved

The fact remains, however, that I won’t diminish or dismiss a part of me in order to make other people happy. I am aware of this. I am, actually, hyperaware of this, and a large part of me marvels at my selfishness for choosing to do this.

Why, though? Why take this path? Why not be self sacrificing, a “good daughter” of whom my parents can be proud? Pre-self acceptance, these questions circled around in my head every damn day, every time I saw a beautiful woman and wanted her, every time I kissed or held or fell asleep in the arms of a girl, I wondered what I was doing and who I was potentially hurting because of my actions.

Then I came out to myself. Or, really, I had a very liberating night and was forced to reevaluate my preconceptions about my sexuality (turns out, if you force yourself into the closet for 18 years, you emerge with a bang). I said out loud what I had always known, “I am bisexual,” and I found a community and a support group here that is better than any I could have imagined.

I no longer have those questions circling around in my head because I know who and what I am. Denying my attraction to women made me unhappy and incomplete; I was never able to be myself or to act on my emotions free of fear. Continuing on that path would be rejecting part of myself and cause me to be living a lie. I have come to the resolution that even if I did decide to be with only men, that would not make me any less attracted to women, and eventually I would have to face that. Yes, my sexuality may isolate me from people I love, but ultimately my life is my own, and I cannot and will not sacrifice my own mental and emotional well being in order to satisfy social norms.

Getting Over Your First _____

Ah, it's that wonderful time of year when the sun peeks out from that infinite expanse of grey, the green emerges from its thick white blanket, and couples go strolling to savor these glimpses of spring. Right...So while this may be the case for some (what can feel like MANY), I am not one of them. No, this February will mark the year anniversary for my first REAL break-up with a woman. This post isn't a painful rehashing of the details surrounding that day, but more of a reflection on what it means to say goodbye to your first.

Ok, that picture is a bit melodramatic, but hey, oftentimes so is breaking up. In my particular case, I was with my gf for a little over two years. No, she wasn't a fellow Yalie or a high school sweetheart. Actually, she was on the other side of things a.k.a the older woman. Ten years older, to be exact. Not only was there a decade between us, but almost 3,000 miles; it was the ultimate long distance relationship. For most people, long distance equals death...

But not for us. The distance actually enhanced our relationship. Seeing as we knew we only had limited amounts of time together, we were always sure to make the most of it. I would travel to L.A for the weekend, she'd come out here, and we'd plan all vacations together. It was great. We were able to maintain the excitement usually said to fade after the first few months of being together, while still developing a mature and deep connection. Since I had no real model to compare to, this arrangement seemed pretty ideal.

(Apparently this is the best image that captures my happiness).

That's not to say we didn't experience awkward moments where we realized the limitations of our relationship. For example, after one particularly low key weekend spent almost entirely in her apartment, I began to notice that some of her habits were also some of my biggest pet peeves. They were little things, like biting her nails and constantly talking throughout movies that drove me crazy. And even though you're thinking, well, it's not like you had to deal with it that long, these discoveries always affirmed the undeniable: we really didn't know each other as well as we thought.

Despite knowing this, I did fall for her...or at least it felt like I did. It was only until a little over a year ago that the real problems arose. Long distance relationships pose all types of challenges- the constant missing one another, the inability to share special events together, or, maybe the worst, the possibility of meeting other people in your separate locations. Mmm hmm... that last one can get you when you least expect it.

Sure, when we first started dating we agreed to keep our relationship open, enabling us to explore without feeling so restricted. I hooked up with a few girls during this period, but eventually I realized I only wanted to be with her. We decided to move into the exclusive territory and, although there were potential interests along the way, we stayed committed. Then, as all long distance haters would have predicted, the inevitable happened: she met someone. Before I dive into the shit storm that followed, let me give you a bit more background on the gf. She's a surgical resident in L.A, in her 30s, and had previously never been with a woman until me. And from the title of this post you know she was my first too. We were able to experiment and make mistakes with total abandon. We were discovering what it meant to be lovers, friends, and gay women together.

And then it all came crashing down. I went to visit for Thanksgiving and realized, despite having closed the 3000 mile distance between us, she still felt extremely far away. This feeling only intensified throughout the trip, and even when having sex for the last time, it was all too aggressive and detached. The warmth and intimacy had vanished; I had lost her without even knowing it. That was the last time I saw her. I soon found out that there was another, someone we had actually talked about before (speculating on whether or not she was gay). Well, turns out she definitely was.

Some more drama has passed since then, but for the most part we no longer talk, and the memory of the relationship has grown dimmer. However, the process hasn't been easy. They always say that getting over your first is the worst as it's the only love you've ever known and the only one you think you'll ever have. True, but it's difficult for so many other reasons. Your first is usually the first person you bare all of yourself to. You pour out all of your fears, vulnerabilities, and dreams. You share everything you are because you want to reach the highest degree of closeness...in all respects. Once you've reached that closeness and suddenly had it stolen away, what follows is the unavoidable heartache.

(me after break up)

No, but after the end, everything does seem unbearable for awhile. Reminders of her spring up where you never knew they existed, e.g., the way you now butter your toast, or stop to watch the frolicking squirrels (an animal you previously viewed as an oversized fluffy cockroach). These aftereffects linger, reaffirming your newly unwanted aloneness...but also the fact you had such an impactful relationship.

(Details I could be missing)

What I've discovered in the course of this year is that while having your first love leave you hurts (and hurts and hurts), the experience, like any other, allows you to learn and grow. Ok, gag, I know how cliché-ish that sounds, but hear me out. As much pain that comes with a break up, you also have to figure out a way to get over that pain, and embrace the woman you are without that person. In my case, I finally decided to focus on what I had learned about myself in the relationship, and how that applied to my life in general. By examining how I changed and what good came out of the situation, I've been able to more fully accept the loss and rededicate my life to me. While break ups can motivate those to a point of self-empowerment, i.e., getting in great shape or starting a new creative project, this only typically comes after a long mourning period. I didn't want to be one of those that was depressed for soooo long that I had to do something positive to free myself from it. In that respect, I think allowing myself to feel whatever I was feeling and finding the positives in the relationship beforehand, really gave me the chance to come into my own much sooner than what could have been. It's not always easy and clearly it's something I still think about (otherwise I wouldn't be writing this post), but I think our firsts provide us with some of the greater lessons to guide us in the perilous world of love later on. We gain some maturity and endurance, and hopefully a bit more sense...when it comes to long distance. Or...

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We start kicking asses and taking names.

If any of you have thoughts/stories to share on your firsts, please comment!

Bring on the next,

A

Going through phases

I figured coming out to my mom as a bisexual wouldn't be a huge deal. I trust her a lot, and I know her to be a progressive woman; she's generally liberal, pro-choice, pro-gay marriage, she even played on a women's flag football team for twenty years where the vast majority of the members, her friends, were lesbians.

So I came out to her over Thanksgiving. The reaction was, while not the opposite of what I expected, still pretty surprising. It turns out my mom doesn't believe bisexuality exists. Its not that she is anti-bi, she just believes its a “phase” and that I'll “have to pick sides eventually.” She wasn't angry, and didn't treat me differently after I told her, but it was as though I had mentioned that I was having trouble deciding on a major; my bisexuality was something to work through, figure out, and decide.

The most frustrating part of the experience is how often I get similar reactions from people to the concept of bisexuality. Look, people: being bi isn't a stage in life that I'm going through. When I finally settle down with a guy or a girl, I won't suddenly be straight or lesbian. I'll have decided upon a person, not a gender. To me, that's why being bi is: having the ability to fall for people, regardless of their sex. Lyrics always say it best: “I just don't care whats under there.”

Sexy Fun Time

What can I update you on? Hmm.

I had my first threesome last week. (INDEPENDENCE, bitches). It was…interesting. Okay well it was a little awkward in the beginning. Okay, so it was sort of planned. I’ll back up.

Girl-I-like slept with this toppy Williams graduate a couple weeks ago but thought they were both a little too toppy for each other. However girl-I-like drunkenly said “Hey, girl-I’m-seeing (ME!) thinks you’re hot. You’re totally her type. We should hang out.”

We should hang out. Really?! Smooooth, Girl-I-Like.

However, it worked. Williams grad (WG) goes, “Hmm. I’m down. I’ve never been the odd man out. That’d be hot.”

Fast forward one week. Text from WG to Girl-I-Like.

WG: Wanna hang tonight

GIL: Well, girl-I’m-seeing will be here tonight. Wanna come over

WG: Am I interfering?

GIL: No. Not at all.

(I hope you read that last text as sketchily as possible).

WG: I’ll stop by around 9, then?

GIL: Perfect. We can play videogames and drink beer.

Make the situation non-awkward.

WG: K should I bring anything?

But come on, it IS awkward. At this point I steal the phone. Mind you, I have not met WG.

GIL (but really me): Naw, don’t worry about it. I have the video camera, and the girl-I’m-seeing has some rope

I could not stop laughing. Luckily WG laughed (via text) and offered to bring handcuffs.

Fast forward 6 hours. Girl-I-like and I are freaking out about the fucking lights in the apartment. I grabbed a beer to calm my fears of this going horribly wrong. What if she is really socially incompetent and can’t handle this? How is it going to start? Will it actually happen? If it does….what if I really don’t like watching Girl-I-Like and WG hook up? What if…I really like hooking up with WG….

I grab a beer while cleaning up the apartment.

“THIS IS SO AWKWARD.”

“Keep the lights off. It’s scary bright.”

“But it looks like we are mood-setting with just the little Christmas lights on. We said come over for VIDEOGAMES.”

“But we need to see the screen better, we need the lights off!”

“IT LOOKS LIKE WE ARE MOOD-SETTING. She’s going to walk in and be like…what the fuck.”

“Fine. Get me a beer.”

An hour later.

She walks in. Yeah, she’s hot. Kind of andro. Butchy, but wears eyeliner. Dimples. She’s a biker…so her body is…ahem…you know, alright. (I try not to squirm obviously on the couch with excitement in front of Girl-I-Like and who I want to continue liking me. BUT SHE’S GORGEOUS. )

We play videogames for an hour. AN HOUR. Apparently some lesbians are really into X-box.





I am not one of these lesbians.

We continue drinking. Somehow and some point we even watch “Hitler in the Springtime” clips on YouTube. Girl-I-Like is Jewish (so it’s ok she put it on) and found it hilarious. Hitler prancing flamboyantly and very homosexually around on stage was much less funny when WG said her grandfather is a holocaust survivor.

Cue crickets.

Pour more whiskey.

Lots of laughter and shifting (oh so accidentally) to where I am closer to WG with each casual laugh on the couch. WG puts hand on my shoulder. Plays with my hair. WG kisses girl-I-like. Girl-I-like kisses me. WG kisses me. It was actually going to happen.

Enter bedroom.

Fast forward 8 hours.

Next morning:

This note was put on the apartment door the next morning. (If you needed something to prompt your imagination about how the night went).

Things to discuss about threesomes at a later point.

1) How to avoid the cuddle slumber-party post sex. Three spoons is cool but not when I wanted to only cuddle with Girl-I-like.

2) How to control jealousy when hearing girl-I-like’s moans causally related to third-party’s touch. I may or may not have moved a hand so that I could be the one to…ahem. That is my job.

Be Chary with Your Charity

Reading the Friendly Atheist blog, I found Hermant Mehta's endorsement of the Human Rights Campaign's Valentine's Day fundraiser.  Here's HRC's pitch:

Instead of wasting that money on one day’s worth of superficial gestures, we are pledging to donate the amount we would have spent to achieving lasting equality for everyone.

We are choosing to donate to the Human Rights Campaign. From their website: “HRC seeks to improve the lives of LGBT Americans by advocating for equal rights and benefits in the workplace, ensuring families are treated equally under the law and increasing public support among all Americans through innovative advocacy, education and outreach programs.”

Sounds good? It gets better!

"For $35, your special someone will receive a cuddly, Rainbow Equality Bear."

I'm going to assume those bears are bought cheaper wholesale, but that's still a non-negligible portion of my donation that's being spent not on activism and advocacy, but on the chintzy, superficial gestures I was trying to avoid.  And that's on top of any normal overhead costs.

A lot of charities and advocacy groups get slammed for the small proportion of donations that go to support the cause.  According to leaked internal documents, HRC spent only five percent of its budget on lobbying efforts, and, in the eyes of gay Atlantic blogger Andrew Sullivan, that lobbying left a lot to be desired.

Supporting the movement is great, but it's important to make sure the money you give goes as far as possible. We have to do due diligence on the priorities and practices of the advocacy groups we support.  HRC gets a lot of coverage, but their 'activism' tends towards merchandising and parties for Democrats who aren't really scared they're going to lose the gay vote any time soon.  If you want your money to do good, give it to state campaigns for referenda get out the vote in the style of Maine's No on Prop 1 or help fund the groups funding gay rights lawsuits (and don't forget that that includes the ACLU!)

So next time you reach for your wallet. skip HRC and donate to Lambda Legal.

An Unconventional Valentine's Day Celebration

Happy Belated Valentine’s day! Despite the many relationships I’ve been through, I’ve always managed to be single on February 14th. This year was sure to be a huge disappointment, as the New Year started with an epic(ally bad) end to my new relationship.

But, surprise surpise, it wasn’t. In fact, Valentine’s day weekend was probably the best weekend of the entire school year. It was also the first weekend I ever had sex with a girl.

I’m a queer girl who loves making out with girls, sometimes goes on dates with girls, and occasionally falls for them, but gets exceedingly nervous about doing anything beyond that. I'm far more experienced with guys, and at this point men are simple and easy to please, while girls have always seemed more complicated. That perception changed this weekend, rather unexpectedly, when I had a threesome.

Okay, yeah, I understand that threesomes aren’t exactly the usual way to have sex with a girl for the first time (or to have sex, period). But from what I can tell you, they’re a damn good form of initiation. Being with two people (another girl and a guy) who I felt comfortable with, being able to see what turned her on, knowing what she did and he did that turned me on, everything was a learning experience. Going into it already being self-assured about my heterosexuality gave me a self-confidence with my homosexuality that I'd never felt before. And now that I have finally had lesbian sex, well, wow. My rating on the Kinsey scale has definitely slipped up a notch.

Valentines Day, and Rainbow Roses

So sometime at 1 am yesterday as I struggled icing cookies, my best friend pointed out that I have the romantic abilities of a 15 year old guy. Not only was I (19 year old college sophomore, waaaay to old for this kind of thing..) baking heart shaped cookies for my girlfriend, I was obsessing over getting the icing exactly perfect and arranging the plate just right.

I think because I (like many queer girls) started dating a lot later than most straight girls, many college bi/gay girls are just learning how to navigate dating and relationships. We never had the middle school “practice” dating, and come to college wondering how we are supposed to flirt with, ask out or even date other girls. And that makes Valentines day that much more stressful.

That being said, whats not to love about a holiday that is all about chocolate and candy and love? Also, flowers! Like these- which are totally amazing and I wish they existed outside of photoshop:

Thats all,

Happy Valentines day!