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Sometimes, I think about the question, “Can I pinpoint when I liked women?” A lengthy question, but a question nonetheless. The whole idea of “environmental influence vs genetically encoded” has caused me so much grief throughout my life that I needed to explore it more. When I was in college, taking a biology class that was linked sexuality, I fully understood the science. Oddly enough, however, I didn’t know how to describe what I felt was correct in how I defined my sexual orientation. The question still remained as to when my attraction began.
One of the earliest instances was when I was in second grade and there was a teacher assistant that I idolized. She was a red-boned, afrocentric, pierced and tatted goddess. With her smooth baby hairs smoothed down against her jumbo braids, she was beautiful and I loved her. I remember all the kids being around her and me, being so shy, I craved the very same attention. I had fallen sick and she had came over to deliver my homework or even come and check on me, not sure which. As En Vogue “Don’t Let Go” played on the radio, I stayed on the top of the stairs and tried to overhear what her and my mother were talking about. Now, I can’t remember what was said however, all I remember was her leaving and me balling my eyes out. My mom asked what was wrong and to come up with a quick lie, I said the song that I was listening to caused my tears. Those tears fell the same after the school year ended and I didn’t see her again.
Crushing or idolizing woman had been something I had done as I grew up. Going to a boarding school and being in all-girl student home, I developed likes for girls that would end up being more sisters than objects of my adoration or even lust. All women who were lighter than me and had attributes that I didn’t find in myself I found the most appealing. Often, I would find ways to be around them, listening and tuning into their grown-up conversations. They would talk about the boys that were the flavor of the week and before I could ever equate what sex was, I always become grossed out to even picturing them kissing boys let alone what they were doing. Though I had the same desires for the opposite sex to blend in, I still desired the touch of a woman’s lips against mine.
I remember Jennifer Lopez coming up in the pop world. I was starting middle school and I would find myself playing her most sensual, most seductive songs more than the ones that were playing on the radio. Outside of “Waiting for Tonight,” it was her second album, a bonus song that caused me to wonder more about my attraction to women. “Pleasure Is Mine,” at that time, was just a statement of a well thoughtful and kind regard or gesture. As she imitated moans of what could be during the act of sex, I felt the butterflies flutter, causing a pulse to my vagina. Hormones awoken as I started to explore how to make women moan that very same way.
Now, I have had relationships with women and men, or at least attempts but nothing... and I do mean NOTHING, is better than women. I have been conditioned to gravitate towards men first hand. Whether it nature OR nurture, that’s had always presented a problem for me. Outside of the physical difference, there is no biological “spark” vs the “fireworks” men have yet to give me whereas women have done so on separate occasions. I can get over a heartbreak much faster from a man then a woman. I leave the option of being “open” to a man that would stimulate me in the very same manner that I currently long for a female to but in the end… women have been my desire, crave, longed for gender that I can not escape or break apart from. No matter how much I had cried out or leaned towards western religion, the restrictions caused me to break me apart and seek truth. Truth being love and I have found love or the understanding of love in the world of women. I'm making no apologizes or mends for it.