Regaining my queerness; some thoughts
I spent the last 6 months being a straight, cis manās girlfriend.
Which frankly is something I never thought Iād say after my freshman year of high school.
I identified as lesbian for 4 whole years before I ever looked at him any differently. I thought my lesbian-ness was set in stone. I thought my understanding of myself was complete at the age of 14.
For many people, those of us who are raised as women specifically, this is the expectation. To have our whole lives figured out so we can accommodate to those around us, especially the ones raised as men, as they are allowed to take their time, make mistakes, and change their mind as they grow well into adulthood. Not that this is necessarily their fault, but it is the societal expectation. Once someone AFAB hits their teenage years, they should have it figured out. Once they hit their teenage years, they are expected to remain mostly the same.
This is simply not the case, although I believed it at the time.
I am not saying all people who identify as lesbian will eventually reevaluate. Far from it. I admire those who have known their identity from an early age. I am in awe of lesbianism, of the culture it has, of the pure beauty of a diverse sense of womanhood and acceptance and love it represents. Thatās why I was reluctant for so long to question it.
I was raised Catholic, and thought that my attraction to men was simply comphet, something I wanted to have but didnāt. And for many years I was comfortable with this idea. And for many people who identify as lesbian, this is their truth.
It was not mine, however. So when I began to look at a man as someone I could spend the rest of my life with in a romantic way, I panicked.
Like I said, I had identified one way for so long. I didnāt want to play into the trope that āall lesbians are actually attracted to men deep downā or āweāre all a little bisexualā. So I resisted, and once I couldnāt anymore, I kept it very quiet.
Eventually, we started dating, and I barely had time to come to terms with being bisexual and this whole new identity before I upended my life to move 400 miles away from him and my family and my support system for college. And it was hard. So many life changes were going on at once and I couldnāt even begin to sort through all of it.
I was scared. But I loved him, and I began going to therapy again, and for a while it was fine if I didnāt think about it too much.
But every time I came home, I became his long distance girlfriend. I felt my queerness was completely stripped from me, every part of it. The bisexuality erased because I was dating a man. The transness erased because I am heavily feminine presenting. The asexuality erased because we were having sex and I am working through a lot of childhood sexual trauma.
It wasnāt bad, but it was a bitā¦ isolating. Like I was a million miles away from the queer community I had belonged to for so long. I did not realize this until after we broke up, though.
He ended things because he didnāt see our goals aligning in the future. And it shattered me. Me, who a year ago was a very vocal man hating lesbian, was now crying in my parents guest room because I had fallen in love with a man and he had broken my heart.
A typical 18-year-old girl experience. But I am not just an 18 year old girl. Iām not even a girl, really. I have lived through foster care and all kinds of abuse and endured much more than most people my age, yet heartbreak and loneliness and a missing sense of belonging still plagued me after the breakup. They still plague me now.
One of the things I am doing to heal is to figure out how my queerness fits into the life I live now, one so completely different from the one it used to fit into when I was in high school. Iām not even sure what that looks like, to be honest.
But to start, I am dressing more masc, more sweatpants and big sweatshirts now that itās colder where I live.
I am listening to more gay pop, MUNA and Chappell Roan now dominating my playlists.
I am working out, channeling my energy into building up my strength and mobility and looking hot and strong while doing it. One of my favorite parts of it is dressing in oversized T-shirts to go to the gym one day and then in a cute little workout set to go to the gym the next day.
I am wearing my binder again.
I have a bisexual flag up in my room, and every day I look at it and feel the settling in my chest of something feeling right, that label making sense for me and what I know about myself right now, and becoming more accepting of myself as the days go by.
I am learning more about bisexual culture. My roommate is also bisexual and we have a blast comparing our experiences being bi.
Itās not like I couldnāt be myself with him. If Iām honest, he loved every part of me in a way I have never been loved before, even if he didnāt fully understand it. He very much tried to. He asked questions, helped me sound out answers when I couldnāt explain something, and trusted me to know myself and explain it to him when I felt I was ready. And that is something so very special.
But I was separated from a community I had loved for so long. And now I am finding my way back, one gay joke at a time. Amongst all the heartbreak, I am finding a space for all parts of me, broken and healing and otherwise.
And I think thatās the beauty of queerness, always always always finding somewhere to belong, even as what you know about yourself changes over time.
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