My Coming Out Story (Updated)
When I was in second grade, my mom started dating a woman. They were obviously very in love, because within a year, we were all living together. At this time, I found the thought of girls dating girls to be utterly disgusting, but for some reason, that never affected how I percieved my mother's relationship. I never considered it gross that my mom was a lesbian; it was actually quite sweet to see her so happy. So, from an early start, homosexuality was a normal thing in my household, even if I didn't foresee my own interest in women. I never really thought that much ahead.
All I knew was that my friends loooooooooooved boys, so, hell, why shouldn't I? Sure, I had a few crushes on guys (by definition, three), but there was something off about my taste. They all either had baby faces or long hair--or both. Sometimes, looks wasn't even an issue. I'd like the boy who played dolls with me when he came over. Spot a pattern here?
The last boy I liked was named Junior, and he's quite easy to remember because he told his sister he was gay, crushing all my... odd dreams. Dreams of Junior staying home, cooking and cleaning, with me putting food on the table. I soon started to suspect that something was out of place.
Actually, to be quite honest, I had one more male crush, and I do not dare write his name. This isn't because there are hard feelings, it was just that it makes me cringe at how clueless I was. I was obsessed with him. I'll admit that. It was his hair. Long and straight and luxurious. Of course, everything else was a little questionable, but all I knew was that he had a brush in his locker to keep his locks silky smooth, and dear lord, what else could a girl ask for?
When it came to asking him out, which my friend forced me to do, I was actually relieved when he said no. Thank God, because really, we had nothing in common. Just the thought of being with him filled me with dread.
My mom said she knew I was gay when I was seven; I'd said I wanted a husband who would cook and clean and I'd be a rancher and would reel in the horses everyday. Wow. Thanks for the wakeup call, Mom.
Now, it wasn't my mother who helped me decipher who I was. It was my best friend. She was bisexual, and she was going around one day asking everyone to tell her if they were gay, straight, or bi. I said I had no clue, because now that I thought about it, what the hell was I? After a few months, I fell for my first girl crush, because now I was curious enough to look. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and a killer body. Of course, she didn't return my feelings, but I made a shocking discovery: this feeling I was having for this girl was nothing like that I felt for any of the boys I liked. Was this what it felt like to actually like someone with all your heart? Giggling? Dreamy smiles? The inability to shut up about them?
So, I thought, okay, I'm bisexual. No biggie. But I never looked at guys again. Ever. It's not that I thought they weren't worth it, it was just that I liked girls better--Oh my god. Was I... A lesbian?
Okay, slow down. I'd give myself some time to adjust. After a month of utter confusion, I came to the conclusion that, yeah. I'm gay as the rainbow. Weird.
I told my dad first. It wasn't that hard. I had a girlfriend, so I mentioned it offhandedly to him one day. He was perfectly fine with it, though extremely awkward about it. That's a dinner I never want to relive again.
Telling my mom was harder. She was gay, too, I know, but... she didn't want that life for me. She didn't want me to have to hide who I was at times, or dodge old friends in the parking lot. But when I told her, she just asked me to tell her about my girlfriend. Everything was okay.
And then I hit nineteen. What a fabulous age to start noticing boys.
I'll be honest; it was terrifying. I'd just come out as a lesbian to everyone, and now I realize that I like boys, too? No, no way. I was in total denial about it. What are a few masterbatory fantasies? Nothing serious there. Pure sexual frustration.
Then I met Ryan. Fucking Ryan. Fucking stupid, awkward, 27-year-old, hot as fuck Ryan. FM-fucking-L. He was my manager when I worked cafe, and I swear, I wanted to take him in the back of the kitchen. There was no denying it. My friend and I nearly asked him for a threesome.
So, yeah, bisexual. However, that only lead to another discovery. I... don't like men. I mean, sure, I like them sexualy. But that's it. Like, thanks for the orgasm but no dinner or movies, 'kay?
This was... confusing, to say the least. What the hell was I supposed to tell people when they asked my sexuality? Bi, but I only date women? What? So I hit the trusty Internet and came across a list of terms for those whose romantic and sexual orientations didn't match up. Apparently, it's quite common. So I'm bisexual homoromantic. End of story, right? No. Of course not.
I don't... stay in relationships. I find them tiresome. I feel trapped and stressed and uncertain and eventually, after three months, I pull the plug. Fear of commitment? Maybe. But the problem is that any feelings I have for a woman dissipate within the first month of my being in a romantic relationship with her. Apparently, this is also quite common.
Akoiromanticism. It's on the aromantic spectrum, aromantic meaning: the lack of ability to experience romantic attraction, wating to be one with someone, falling in love with someone. Basically, what akoiromanticism entails is that while someone might develop a romantic crush on someone and experience the whole wanting to be one with them thing, even envision a life together, once those feelings are returned, they disappear. A lot of akoiromantics, such as myself, find it difficult to continue a relationship after these feelings have dissipated, though some do.
So... Bisexual? Yes. Homoromantic? Eeehhhh.... More like homo-akoiromantic, if you want to be technical. I also don't really develop close emotional bands with men for whatever reason. Do I want a lifelong partnership in the future? Absolutely. Only, that relationship will be sexual but not based on romantic attraction. It will likely be based more on a strong platonic bond. Also, it might be monogomous. If not, the polyamorous relationship will be comitted, if you can wrap your head around that.
Now, am I out about any of this hyper-technical stuff? Yes and no. I tell friends and acquaintances quite easily that I'm bi and aromantic (I'm not, but I'm on th aro spectrum, and aromantic is easier to explain than akoiromantic). However, my family doesn't know. I in no way want to have to sex talk with my family again with them knowing I like dicks. I don't need that. And the aromantic thing... they'd never understand. My moms would say that I should wait until I find the "right one" and my dad would just compare me to him and say that I don't have the brainpower to deal with that bullshit. They wouldn't get that it's not a choice. I hate being akoiromantic sometimes.
Anyway. Done? No more outing to do? Not quite. I've come to start questioning whether I'm cis female. But that's a story I'll have to add on when it's not five A.M. and I'm not confused as fuck about it.
All I knew was that my friends loooooooooooved boys, so, hell, why shouldn't I? Sure, I had a few crushes on guys (by definition, three), but there was something off about my taste. They all either had baby faces or long hair--or both. Sometimes, looks wasn't even an issue. I'd like the boy who played dolls with me when he came over. Spot a pattern here?
The last boy I liked was named Junior, and he's quite easy to remember because he told his sister he was gay, crushing all my... odd dreams. Dreams of Junior staying home, cooking and cleaning, with me putting food on the table. I soon started to suspect that something was out of place.
Actually, to be quite honest, I had one more male crush, and I do not dare write his name. This isn't because there are hard feelings, it was just that it makes me cringe at how clueless I was. I was obsessed with him. I'll admit that. It was his hair. Long and straight and luxurious. Of course, everything else was a little questionable, but all I knew was that he had a brush in his locker to keep his locks silky smooth, and dear lord, what else could a girl ask for?
When it came to asking him out, which my friend forced me to do, I was actually relieved when he said no. Thank God, because really, we had nothing in common. Just the thought of being with him filled me with dread.
My mom said she knew I was gay when I was seven; I'd said I wanted a husband who would cook and clean and I'd be a rancher and would reel in the horses everyday. Wow. Thanks for the wakeup call, Mom.
Now, it wasn't my mother who helped me decipher who I was. It was my best friend. She was bisexual, and she was going around one day asking everyone to tell her if they were gay, straight, or bi. I said I had no clue, because now that I thought about it, what the hell was I? After a few months, I fell for my first girl crush, because now I was curious enough to look. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and a killer body. Of course, she didn't return my feelings, but I made a shocking discovery: this feeling I was having for this girl was nothing like that I felt for any of the boys I liked. Was this what it felt like to actually like someone with all your heart? Giggling? Dreamy smiles? The inability to shut up about them?
So, I thought, okay, I'm bisexual. No biggie. But I never looked at guys again. Ever. It's not that I thought they weren't worth it, it was just that I liked girls better--Oh my god. Was I... A lesbian?
Okay, slow down. I'd give myself some time to adjust. After a month of utter confusion, I came to the conclusion that, yeah. I'm gay as the rainbow. Weird.
I told my dad first. It wasn't that hard. I had a girlfriend, so I mentioned it offhandedly to him one day. He was perfectly fine with it, though extremely awkward about it. That's a dinner I never want to relive again.
Telling my mom was harder. She was gay, too, I know, but... she didn't want that life for me. She didn't want me to have to hide who I was at times, or dodge old friends in the parking lot. But when I told her, she just asked me to tell her about my girlfriend. Everything was okay.
And then I hit nineteen. What a fabulous age to start noticing boys.
I'll be honest; it was terrifying. I'd just come out as a lesbian to everyone, and now I realize that I like boys, too? No, no way. I was in total denial about it. What are a few masterbatory fantasies? Nothing serious there. Pure sexual frustration.
Then I met Ryan. Fucking Ryan. Fucking stupid, awkward, 27-year-old, hot as fuck Ryan. FM-fucking-L. He was my manager when I worked cafe, and I swear, I wanted to take him in the back of the kitchen. There was no denying it. My friend and I nearly asked him for a threesome.
So, yeah, bisexual. However, that only lead to another discovery. I... don't like men. I mean, sure, I like them sexualy. But that's it. Like, thanks for the orgasm but no dinner or movies, 'kay?
This was... confusing, to say the least. What the hell was I supposed to tell people when they asked my sexuality? Bi, but I only date women? What? So I hit the trusty Internet and came across a list of terms for those whose romantic and sexual orientations didn't match up. Apparently, it's quite common. So I'm bisexual homoromantic. End of story, right? No. Of course not.
I don't... stay in relationships. I find them tiresome. I feel trapped and stressed and uncertain and eventually, after three months, I pull the plug. Fear of commitment? Maybe. But the problem is that any feelings I have for a woman dissipate within the first month of my being in a romantic relationship with her. Apparently, this is also quite common.
Akoiromanticism. It's on the aromantic spectrum, aromantic meaning: the lack of ability to experience romantic attraction, wating to be one with someone, falling in love with someone. Basically, what akoiromanticism entails is that while someone might develop a romantic crush on someone and experience the whole wanting to be one with them thing, even envision a life together, once those feelings are returned, they disappear. A lot of akoiromantics, such as myself, find it difficult to continue a relationship after these feelings have dissipated, though some do.
So... Bisexual? Yes. Homoromantic? Eeehhhh.... More like homo-akoiromantic, if you want to be technical. I also don't really develop close emotional bands with men for whatever reason. Do I want a lifelong partnership in the future? Absolutely. Only, that relationship will be sexual but not based on romantic attraction. It will likely be based more on a strong platonic bond. Also, it might be monogomous. If not, the polyamorous relationship will be comitted, if you can wrap your head around that.
Now, am I out about any of this hyper-technical stuff? Yes and no. I tell friends and acquaintances quite easily that I'm bi and aromantic (I'm not, but I'm on th aro spectrum, and aromantic is easier to explain than akoiromantic). However, my family doesn't know. I in no way want to have to sex talk with my family again with them knowing I like dicks. I don't need that. And the aromantic thing... they'd never understand. My moms would say that I should wait until I find the "right one" and my dad would just compare me to him and say that I don't have the brainpower to deal with that bullshit. They wouldn't get that it's not a choice. I hate being akoiromantic sometimes.
Anyway. Done? No more outing to do? Not quite. I've come to start questioning whether I'm cis female. But that's a story I'll have to add on when it's not five A.M. and I'm not confused as fuck about it.