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Queer me

Discussion in 'LGBT Later in Life' started by baristajedi, Mar 15, 2016.

  1. baristajedi

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    I decided to take the advice of several of you on here and, rather than thinking thinking analysing, etc, instead to just feel things, experience them. So I wrote out an assortment of some of the experiences in my life, and the feelings they evoked. I want to let those feelings just be, to hang in the air and not take too much time dwelling on what they mean. So here goes...

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    Curves, laughter, grace, energy, beauty. Warmth flooded my body. I can’t take my eyes away, images of her, her scent, her laughter, flood my senses. Lying still in my room remembering the way she laughs. Am I gay? What will they think? The other kids at school. I’m already a freak. But it pervades my senses. I don’t want to stop feeling the warmth. It will be my secret. Another secret. Another part of me I keep hidden away. Internalise it.

    I steal glances at magazines, I want to see lips, curves, breasts. It's different from the feelings in seeing men and women on the screen. What they do, it’s grown up, it’s what people do. But I feel nothing. Instead I find myself reaching again for the magazines, I imagine their bodies, the women on the pages, soft and warm. Emotions, physical sensations, take over me.

    Years go by, I lock my secret in a box. Throw away the key. Bury the box deep inside. Choose a boy to fixate on. Be like everyone else. Laughter, fun, sharing secrets. I belong, even if just a little. I never really belong anywhere, with anyone, but I can share this with the other girls, and we can scheme and write notes and talk until the early morning about them and the way they laugh and move.

    Their fingers are locked together, they come in close, they kiss, these women on the street, I didn't know them. My insides squirmed. I wanted to be comfortable with it. But I felt dirty. I hated the way I felt when my friend came out to me. In the cafeteria, the end of a long day, waiting for our bus, at an empty table, not many people around. Why couldn't I be comfortable with her being gay? Why should it upset me?

    On the page, on the screen, I wanted, needed to see it. Romance, intimacy, warmth, affection, sex, between women. The warmth, the emotions it evoked, it was powerful, too powerful.

    Confidence, boldness, in small measures, were growing. I opened the box, just a crack. Peered inside. Flirtations, soft touches, leaning in, almost, her lips were so close. But I couldn't. Everytime I got close, I couldn't.

    Then I met him, his attention at first was unwanted, overwhelming. But his eyes, and his voice, and his energy, soon his presence began to fill me with warmth. His arms, those warm arms. It was he who encouraged me, he talked about the boys from his past, the things they tried. He accepted me, encouraged me to explore this side of me. It was too soon.

    Frozen. Stiff. Detached. I'd wanted this, I'd wanted to be with a woman. But this wasn't the way I'd wanted it. It wasn't on my terms. I wanted it to be delicate, soft, slow. I wasn't ready. This was too much. Later, maybe, in time. For now I still had his arms. When we went separate ways, that's what I missed most. It left a hole in my heart to lose him.

    Her arms around my waist, "let me show you...", water splashing against her beautiful curves, our bodies nearly naked, the warmth was inside me again, dangerous, threatening. Sharing a meal, sharing her gaze, candlelight flickering. These were our private times. We were together nearly everyday. Her arms locked in mine. A meal, a coffee, wine. I remember the day we met, watching her move in her white linen pants, watching her lips move, her soft curls.
    Everyone said she was in love with me. Prickles down my spine, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. What was I feeling? Why did I like it so much? I was getting married soon. How could I feel these things? It was all too much, with very few words, I stopped returning her calls...

    My husband to be. He made me feel safe. He was comfortable. Wasn't that enough?
     
  2. baristajedi

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    I realise after reading this, it sounds like I've never liked boys/men at all. It was meant to be mostly focused on my feelings for girls/women. But there are a couple of examples of intense male attraction/connection in my life. Not that it matters, this was just an exercise for me to get my feelings to the surface.
     
    #2 baristajedi, Mar 16, 2016
    Last edited: Mar 16, 2016
  3. dirtyshirt84

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    You are a good writer. She sounds like someone special...

    I have been thinking lately that maybe denial has some value, in that in allows us to deal with things only when we are emotionally strong enough and when we feel ready? Maybe when we feel safe and able to come to terms with feelings. I just read that denial is a normal human response to information that may be overwhelming. It offers protection and comfort. This makes sense to me, I just don't think I was ready to come to terms with my sexuality properly until now (probably a lot of people on ec can relate?). Anyway, just thought I would share as it makes me think there is no point worrying about lost time. It is what it is.
     
  4. dirtyshirt84

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    You are a good writer. She sounds like someone special...

    I have been thinking lately that maybe denial has some value, in that in allows us to deal with things only when we are emotionally strong enough and when we feel ready? Maybe when we feel safe and able to come to terms with feelings. I just really ad that denial is a normal human response to information that may be overwhelming. It offers protection and comfort. This makes sense to me, I just don't think I was ready to come to terms with my sexuality properly until now (probably a lot of people on ec can relate?). Anyway, just thought I would share as it makes me think there is no point worrying about lost time. It is what it is.
     
  5. baristajedi

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    She was special. That was the hardest experience to write about. I don't think I've ever acknowledged how I felt about her. I mean I would acknowledge bits and pieces at the time, and then push it away. A lot of the other stuff I've acknowledged but explained away.

    I like whst you're saying about denial providing comfort, and now, I am strong enough, braver and ready to take risks. But now my life is more complicated, married with a kid... I can't wish for things to be any different though, because then I wouldn't have my daughter.