Lesbian or simply a preference?

I have no clue where to start this, so I'm just going to plunge right in. I am 15, female, and I like girls. I have liked girls from, essentially, the dawn of time. My first crush was in 1st grade (even though I wasn't aware I had a "crush" on her, being seven and all.). Anyways, all along the way, I also had crushes on boys. I thought they were attractive, and those crushes were the only ones I ever acted upon, seeing as I didn't know being gay was a thing. Even though I have always subconsciously known I was attracted to women. I had this mentality all the way up to middle school. Even so, I never seemed to get it right with boys. We never clicked right, I was always off- and they never really took to me. It was a little devastating, considering liking boys seemed to be what young girls were supposed to do.

In sixth grade, everyone was getting "serious" boyfriends (looking back on it, it was all so silly) and so, naturally, I did too. My first legitimate boyfriend was weird. I was experimenting with this whole new world of kissing boys and wanting to be physically near to them, and I really had no idea what I was doing. I did what I thought I should, and at the time, I really thought that was what I wanted.

I feel it's pertinent to mention I struggle really hard with mental illness, such as manic depression and extreme anxiety, as well as Borderline Personality Disorder. This is really hard to talk about, because it makes me feel like I'm a freak- but I'm stopping to mention it solely because during middle school I was an emotional hurricane, with a partialness to self destruction. I needed someone to love me because I, in no way, loved myself.

Anyways, my break up with him was emotionally devastating in the sense that I thought I lost the one thing that made me normal. I thought I had lost the only person who was ever going to love me. (You know, middle school, everything feels like the end of the damn world) Anyways, I realized, in this time, that I had feelings for my best friend. We'll call her Carly. I knew I wanted to kiss Carly, and be with her, I just really wasn't sure what it meant. The beautiful thing was, she liked me too. And while, at that time, we were both nursing some "broken hearts", we fell in love. When she kissed me it felt different from my former boyfriend. It felt like my stomach was housing millions of fireworks, and I'd just swallowed a lit match. It was really beautiful, and I felt like I was finally right. I was still attracted to boys in this time, but it was nothing compared to Carly.

It was a hard time, and it was a new feeling. We were both really unstable, and really afraid of what our feelings meant. We were never official, and eventually we faded out. We're still friends to this day- and often we discuss how we still love each other, but it just wasn't meant to be.
Anywho, after all of that, I came out at school as bisexual. The response was....horrible. The boy I liked called me disgusting, and refused to even talk to me. The girls avoided me like the plague. I was already suicidal, deep-seeded self hatred rotted me to my core- and this certainly didn't help. I was so fucking ashamed of myself. I was "crazy", and foul, and I really did think I deserved to die. I was trash.
I tried to kill myself multiple times during my years of middle school, and it wasn't until just this year that I started to pull myself out of that endlessly dark place.

When seventh grade started, I recounted everything. Over summer I'd had my first real girlfriend, Sara, and I ended up backing out of it because I got too many messages about how I was "disgusting lesbian" and should "just keep cutting until I finally hit a main vein". I was too weak to turn a cheek to that. And even though I liked Sara more than I could even word, I couldn't handle the hatred, including my own. When school started back, I decide to not mention my sexuality. Even though I had a moon-sized crush on this girl Amanda (and did very little to hide it), after that received negative attention, I took it all back. I claimed it was just a phase. I liked boys, and boys only. I did everything I could to convince myself of that. I dated boys I didn't even like. I was trying to grab anything I could to save myself from drowning- I was already the school spectacle for my self-destructive tendencies, fuck me if I also liked girls.

It died down, but it didn't go away. I still got disgusted looks from girls, pages ripped out of my school books, "LESBIAN" written in giant red letters in my workbook, ect. I was already shit on by my peers prior to my sexuality was on the table, but this just added fuel to the fire. I tried to pretend like it didn't hurt me, but it was killing me. I spent so many nights crying, begging that I would stop feeling the way I did about girls. "I'm not gay" was my most recycled phrase. I couldn't be, not if I wanted to stay somewhat off the map from the assholes.
The repression did nothing to help me emotionally, I grew even more ashamed and hated myself even more. Especially because I was still having secret flirtatious relationships with girls, which made me extremely guilty. I could hardly bare to be myself.

Now, as much as I hate myself, I never had trouble being liked, physically, by other people. While I've never (still haven't) seen it, my looks have been a source of compliments for me. And before mental illness derailed me and outcasted me, I had a lot of friends. Which also made it hard to fly under the radar, because most people knew who I was. I was by no means popular (infamous is more like it), but people knew who I was. I was hardly ever free from scrutiny from someone, somewhere. And then a truckload of people who agreed with them. Looking back on it, I'm really amazed I lived to tell the tale. It was a truly awful time.

Anyways, I'd put the whole sexuality thing to bed for the time being over that winter break, and started dating another boy. It was one of my most superfluous relationships, but I was in it nonetheless. We started "dating" right around Valentines Day, which was endlessly stressful for me. I wasn't sure how to act like I felt something large and beautiful for him when I didn't. And I felt so little, that I actually ended up spending the entire night before Valentines Day making out with my then best friend, Lara. It felt too right to be guilty, even if we were, quote: "just messing around" (I knew that I wasn't), and she was "straight". He didn't get me anything for Valentines Day either. I was really okay with that.

That, as expected, ended in the spring. And I met the first boy I actually had real feelings for. Deep feelings that felt like they might rip me in two. His name was Jack (I've been changing all the names just for, y'know, security) he was a year older and I was completely mystified by him. Everyone told me not to date him, he was a "complete douchebag" and "nothing but bad news", but I totally jumped on that. (Self destructive!) Jack was a year older, and notorious for his affiliation with weed and other such things. Yeah, I know. But it was like catnip to me. He actually came onto me, and at first I refused, but eventually, I caved. I still haven't decided if that was a mistake. I fell for Jack like a ton of bricks. I wanted him, in every sense of the term. He was the first boy I could ever even imagine sleeping with. Even when we weren't doing drugs, I felt like I was on them simply because of the way I felt about him. This relationship ended up really fucking my life over (grades/home), but that's besides the point.

It was relatively short-lived, but incredibly intense. For me, anyways. It ended with him treating me like I was annoying and disposable, and then him dumping me before class. Fantastic, right. It hurt. It hurt so much, and even worse when I later found out he was horrible behind my back with our friends, always expressing his relief when I'd go home. I felt betrayed, left high and dry. It took me a long time to get over that. I'm really thankful I never actually slept with him.

I didn't date anyone for a very long time after that. I did, however, sleep with one of my "willing to try anything" friends, Elena, over summer. I mention this, because I fucking freaked out after it happened. She fell asleep, and I went out to my living room and sobbed. For her, it was just fun. But I had realized I'd liked it, and it again, felt right. I googled sexualities, trying to place myself again. I needed something to make sense of what was happening to me. I swayed to pansexuality (because I remembered how poorly bi had worked out for me, and I was terrified of it.) I ended up going into my mom's room, waking her, and sobbing about how I thought I might be pansexual. She didn't react adversely, but didn't really know what to do with it. It was really weird. I had done that on impulse, and immediately regretted it. I later recounted that, too. She only brought it up one other time, as means to make fun of me. My mother is a good woman, and an amazing mom, but just not there. She's not a homophobe, but definitely not comfortable with the idea of me ever being gay. More shame.

That summer was filled with more struggle, I began to delve into more destructive habits, more shame. I was really, really done being me. Eighth grade, (I know I was really young for all of this shit to be happening to me, but it did.) no one seemed to remember I was ever bisexual, and I carried on like I was straight. Again, I was liking girls on the down low, but no one ever knew that. I didn't date anyone all of eighth grade, which was actually really nice. I didn't want to have pointless relationships anymore. Over winter break, (2012) Lara and I were hanging out and got right drunk. We slept together that night, and it was far more serious than Elena. Lara was still identifying as straight, even after. Which was fine by me, because I hardly wanted to acknowledge what we'd done the next morning. She was fucking beautiful, and I by no means regretted it, but I could not believe I wanted to. I could not accept that I was liking sex with girls. It was too much for me.

Fast forward, summer 2013, I'm revisiting the fact that I could be something other than straight. I had been talking to this lesbian girl, Jenny, who showed interest in me. I told her that I thought I was bisexual (and didn't mention I'd been living a double-life because of it) and she said she thought, after talking to me for a good amount of time, I was gay. It was weird to me, I had never considered complete lesbian, but it didn't feel like a reach. We ended up going on a few dates (she was older and my mom never knew) and afterwards I thought, yeah. Maybe I am.

I had never really wanted to have sex with boys, in fact, it made me feel sick. (Apart from Jack, and the select few male celebrities I fawned over) I started watching The L Word, and lesbian youtube couples (kaelynandlucy, roseandrosie, etc) and realizing I could really relate to these people. I am feminine, and it was refreshing to see that that didn't mean I couldn't be gay, which is kind of what I thought. At this time, I also fell for a straight girl, Megan, who, despite her boyfriend- seemed to fall too. (I'm not gonna tell that story because this thing is long as hell already, but I was head over heels for her, and she totally fucked me over. Straight girls will get ya every time.) So all things considered, I started to think lesbian was entirely plausible.

I went into Freshman year identifying as that, and felt overall comfortable for once. Aside a few bitchy girls and boys asking if they could watch, no one bugged me about it. Although, I felt a sense of guilt because of Jack, and again, those few celebrities- I felt like I wasn't true. Even though I had a heavy crush on a girl in my Law class, I felt like someone was gonna come along and say "oh but don't you love that one singer dude?? You're not gay.". So when I switched over to independent study, I decided within myself that I must be bisexual, and left it alone again.

But, here I am, 2014, writing this, because I don't think that's right. I can recognize a handsome man, and given the circumstances, I wouldn't end up vomiting from kissing one. And I know I loved Jack, and I know I'm a little in love with the members of mcr (scouts honor I'm not a scene kid.). But I cannot, at all, realistically picture myself with a man. From casual dating to marriage, I just can't. And it isn't them, it's me. I don't feel like I fit into that fantasy. Also, I don't feel it's 50/50. I like girls far more, and I pretty much always have. I can see myself marrying a girl, even though I'm not super big on marriage. The point is I could see it.

The reason this is so damn long (and if you're still reading this, I seriously love you. Thanks. I really needed someone to listen.) is because I wanted to get all my history in there. I've theorized that I may be gay, but due to my experiences, there's this wall of shame and self-loathing that is blocking me from being honest and accepting with myself. Hanging onto my small tether of incidental heterosexuality. I don't want to live in this grey. I even took that Kinsey scale test. Scored a 5. I guess I wrote this because I need advice. A second opinion. Am I a lesbian? Or am I a bisexual with a strong preference? Please, tell me what you think. I'm standing on this ledge of uncertainty, and I could really use, again, a second opinion.

Thank you so much for taking time out of your day to read this. I'm forever grateful.

xo (*hug*)

 

Hi, OP here, note that every time I said "recounted" I meant "renounced". I wrote this at four am on no sleep and was a bundle of nerves while doing so. Whoops.

 

First off, I want to thank you, really, for reading my insanely long post. It means a lot. And your response is absolutely sound, you're right. I believe I do know my answer, it's just gonna take some time to really accept it. It still feels like I want to turn and run at the thought that I'm gay, and I can only hope that I'll eventually stop feeling that way. :icon_redf

Thank you for validating the idea that I could be lesbian with a few exceptions (which I agreed with) or otherwise instead of banking on the incidental stuff- which is what I do when I overthink everything. I think, like you said, that I have always known where I truly lie, and I'm really glad I came here and posted about it. Getting it out, and the responses I got have really helped put me in a place that I probably would not be in for another 5 years without it.

I feel better now that I have a sense of direction, and you really helped with that. So thank you, an absolute ton.