I was 15 the first time that I experienced an attraction to a female, someone of my own biological gender. While inside I felt male, I knew that physically I was a girl. I didn’t know there was anything I could do to change it. I was mortified that I liked her. I was taught to believe that I was supposed to like boys and boys only... I mean, I had to right, having to be a girl. I was worried about what it meant. If I was really a man on the inside, was I supposed to like girls? Was I gay before? What did this mean? Couldn’t I just like Samantha* without confusion and fear?
She was 3 years older than me and in one of my courses. She had short hair and was kind of boyish in her way, but was nonetheless a girl. It was just like the other one or two crushes that I had before. I still got that same bubbly feeling in my stomach, got giddy around her and wanted to lay her down and kiss her. I didn’t know what to do. Gay was bad. Lesbian was bad. It was a slur and an insult that those around me used and called me. I denied any sort of same-gender attraction. They called me a dyke, rug-muncher, muff diver, fanny licker, twat sucker or my personal favourite Cinderfella. I didn’t want anyone to know what I had these kinds of feelings. The bullying would only get worse if they knew I actually had homosexual feelings. They already hit me, threw things at me and stole my books. How could they make it worse?
I already didn’t want to go to school because of how I was treated. It went beyond normal bullying, it was for something that wasn’t true. I liked boys too. Every time I’d tell them “No, I like boys. I’m straight.” They would tell me that I was just saying that. I was denying a part of myself. I knew I wasn’t straight, but I did like boys. I couldn’t even say the word bisexual. I couldn’t acknowledge that. It was just as bad as being gay. I knew they’d focus on that and I would be further shunned. I felt like I needed to deny these parts of me out of shame, guilt and fear.
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I was so excited when I’d see her on the bus or knew that she would be in class with me. I was bottling up these feelings. I was going to explode. I told my friend Bailey* who I’d befriended the year before. I didn’t know how she’d take it. She asked who I liked and I told her and she goes “Oh, I like her too.” I clarified how I liked her, that it was a proper crush and that I had thoughts about kissing her, wanting to touch her and she said: “Me too.” I was relieved. My friend, who was a normal girl, liked a girl. I felt like I could fly. We would talk about her, how she moved, her tomboy attitude. I turned it into poetry, then I found out she had a boyfriend. I honestly didn’t see her as the type to have a boyfriend, but she did. I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
It then occurred to me that she could be in denial like me. Or it didn’t mean that she wasn’t like me who liked both. She didn’t tell me that she didn’t. I was too afraid to ask her. We had small conversations, me being shy and having difficulty communicating didn't help matters for me. Despite knowing she had a boyfriend, my feelings for her kept raging inside me. And I kept raging inside myself. I felt disgusting. I shouldn't have these feelings. Should I have these feelings? I was torn. As you know I grew up Catholic and my family was very traditional in the way of sexuality. I knew I could never tell my parents I had feelings for a girl. Actually, I couldn’t tell my parents anything. I’d kept my depression from them for years at this point, hiding my self-harm and tossing out the stolen beer bottles before they woke up.
I didn’t have to tell my mum anything about me liking a girl, she found out all on her own from a note in my pocket. I’d asked a girl I knew and trusted from my German lessons about it. Was I okay? Was I normal? I wanted to know what some of my other friends though, so I passed a note to my mate and ended up regretting it. Not because of what she told me, but because my mum found the note in my jeans when she was doing laundry and it was an utter disaster.
I was sat in my first-period history lesson when someone came to my classroom and told me that my mother was here to pick me up. I didn’t have any appointments. I didn’t-had something happened to one of my siblings? Had something happened to my drunk excuse for a father? I thought there was some sort of an emergency. I made my way down the staircases and out to where she was standing in the office. She didn’t look sad or worried, she had her usual grumpy expression. She was silent as I followed her out to the car and didn’t say anything until we were halfway home.
She told me that she found a note about me liking a girl in one of my courses and wanted to know if I was some sort of dyke. My stomach started to dissolve. She knew my secret and she was madder than hell. She went on a rant saying it wasn't right, it wasn't natural. I lied my ass off. I told her that I meant that I liked her as a friend and I didn't know how to befriend the girl. I don't think she fully bought it.
The humiliation became too much for me. If this is how my life was going to be, I didn’t want to be a part of it. I felt powerless to stop it. Powerless within myself. I felt trapped in a life and a sexuality that I didn’t want. I just wanted to be liked. I just wanted to be fucking normal. I descended into a depression that I found hard to shake. I didn’t have anyone around, I pushed the few people I had away. I couldn’t admit shit to myself, I couldn’t like myself, how could I expect others to? Over time, I came to accept myself, how I am and now I even embrace my sexuality. I can't change what I am and I don't think that I'd want to. I've had experiences with both men and women and those I wouldn't change; they helped me to define certain parts of my life.
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And here comes the interesting part of the story. As some of you know I discovered the act of humping at a young age but didn't really know what it meant. All I knew was it was something that made me feel better. It felt good. It helped me sleep. And during all these "sessions" I never once thought about boys. I focused on the fat girls. It was the only thing that made the sensations happen. At the time, I had no real idea what sexuality was or sexual identity was. What kid knows that? Looking back on it when I was about 20 or so, I realised that I had been bisexual all along, I just didn't realise it. I had had attractions to other people of the same biological gender my entire life, it just never hit me until I stopped to think about it. I was never straight. No one made me this way, it was just how I was born. After coming to that realisation, I started to relax about my sexuality a little bit. I just went with the flow. And still, I don't tend to use labels when defining my sexuality because it's always changing with me, different levels of attraction for different reasons. All I'm sure of is that I find both men and women attractive.
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