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How I Knew I Was a Lesbian

For Definite This Time

By Ailsa ReidPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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I've known I liked girls since I was six.

I'd hold Jeanette's hand in primary school and was always the father when we played families. I distinctly remember insisting that it's normal to kiss your friends, and Jeanette's slight reluctance when I pecked her on the cheek. I thought she was lovely, especially when we would sprint away from boys in the playground, proposing to us with fistfuls of daisies.

Needless to say, Jeanette has a boyfriend now.

Fast forward to secondary, and I was trying my hardest to fancy boys. My friend and I would walk past their group over and over just to get a glimpse. She would swoon and I would just be bored. I did my best to join in on all of the conversations of how wonderfully sexy Channing Tatum is in Magic Mike, and how a good set of abs and a strong jawline are everything you want in a partner.

I think for a time even I believed it was real.

When I was 14, I left an abusive relationship with a boy that royally screwed me up. I developed anorexia and I just felt lost. Through all of this, though, was her. We were best friends amidst our big group of pals, and did everything together. One summer, a tent party was organised, and it was cold at night so we ended up sharing a sleeping bag. It felt like the most pure, natural thing in the world to be snuggled together, just holding each other while the rain pattered on the roof above us. The innocence of it all was just heartwarming.

I truly loved that girl, more than I thought I could ever love a person. We had a relationship for 8 months; we were both sad when it ended, but it just wasn't meant to be, I suppose. I still look back on that time and smile hard. We were happy.

When I was 17, and after a couple of failed relationships with boys, I began to think. Even after months, I wouldn't sleep with either of them, whilst I had friends who had sex like clockwork. I was always asked when I was going to take the plunge, so to speak, but I dismissed those comments by saying I wanted to take things slow. I never initiated any kind of contact with these boys—even kissing fizzled out after a while. I did other stuff with them yes, but only to make them happy.

It became almost like a chore. To do list: hang the washing out, hoover my room, give my boyfriend a BJ. I hated every second of it but tolerated it because I thought it's what I had to do. It's what girls do, right? Don't get me wrong, I loved making them happy but I would dread when the time would come around that I'd be asked to do it.

On the other hand, if I was with a girl, every touch felt like static. The roar of butterflies in my stomach was always prevalent, and I could be with her until the sun came up.

The stark differences in my feelings with boys and girls made me question everything, but I think it took experimenting with both for me to realise that.

I started to think about my future—what did I want? Then I realised, I want to wear a beautiful white dress and weave flowers into my hair, for my beach wedding, with my wife. My wife. I couldn't picture marrying a man, having children or growing up with one. It felt so detached from me.

I can't say if there's a definitive point at which I knew for certain that I'm gay. It's more like a collection of experiences that, when looked back on, point like neon signs to the truth. One thing I certainly regret, though, is the feeling that I was supposed to like boys, so I did. I wasted so much time being dishonest with myself, when I could have been in my dream relationship.

If you take anything from this, let it be that who you are is more than okay. Disguising that will never work.

lgbtq
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