This isn’t about Dental Care
Last night at work I accidentally received a girl’s phone number. The night started out the same as it usually did, with me asking the nearest server for the reservation count. “What’s our number today?” I’d asked her specifically as I reached for a tray.
“It’s xxx-xxxx,” she’d said, grinning with a wink. “Call or text me anytime, casanova.”
I was so distracted that I hadn’t actually realized what I’d affirmed to with a smile until after the fact. Then I just stood there for a moment, staring at the wall with a blank expression until it clicked. I thought I was going crazy. What just happened?
To clarify, I asked, “Did you just give me your number?”
“Yeah,” she said, humming. She glanced over at me. “Didn’t you ask for it?”
“Oh- I was, uh,” I attempted to explain, all flustered. “I actually was asking for the reservations. The count,” I waved my hands airily, as if to make my meaning any clearer than it was. “I mean, but if, you know, you want to give me your number- it’s- yeah I’d- it’s pretty cool. I’d be cool with that. If you gave me your number. So cool. Yeah.”
…pretty smooth save, amiright? But she must’ve found me charming or something, because she continued to write it down for me after the fact.
The reason I’d been so surprised is because, well, I’ve never gotten a girl’s number before. (Shocker!) Unless it was for friendship, school, or business reasons. I’m almost positive that even the reason for her giving me this number fits into one of those categories.
For a moment, however, I was just kind of astounded at even the thought she’d give me her number so easily. When you’re a girl interested in dating other girls, (or at least when you’re me interested in anyone) it’s difficult to pick up on the social flirting cues. Guys can be painfully obvious about their interest, which makes it easy to reciprocate and plan dates. Girls are subtler, softer… and I’m generally oblivious to flirting in general.
I was oblivious to my sexuality for years as well. It should have been obvious, and it was in a way. When I was five, I got into an argument with another girl over Pepe le Pew’s flirting tactics. To prove my argument I’d kissed her hand right up to her lips in as romantic a fashion as a five year old could muster, which made her blush and tell me angrily that girls didn’t kiss other girls. Then, from that point forward, I spent most of my time telling myself that because I had crushes on boys or men then that meant that the way I felt for girls was normal. “No, no,” I’d tell myself, denying it. “You’re mistaken. You don’t like girls like that. It’s not normal.”
It’s not normal. It’s a sin. You’re not a lesbian, you like men. That flutter in your chest is just the feeling of friendship. You look at girls like any other girl looks at girls. It’s normal to admire their makeup and clothes. You want to be around girls because guys make you shy, and you’re a girl too. It’s fine. You’re fine.
And then, the real kickers: you can’t like girls. If you did, your parent’s would hate you. Any LGBTQ person is going to hell. They’re less than human. They choose that lifestyle. Who would choose to be with someone of the same sex? It’s unnatural. Man was meant to be with woman. God still loves you and they still love you if you only love men. So you see, self, you can’t like other girls. You don’t.
That’s about when I hit high school and it became very difficult to keep lying to myself. Shit happens to everyone, you know? My family became sort of AWOL for reasons. Left alone most of the time, I found ways to open up and be honest to myself. I realized that I shouldn’t conform for anyone for any reason, especially not for anyone who can’t accept me for who I am. If I can’t respect myself for who I am, how can I expect anyone else to? And if anyone refuses to accept me for me, or to support me when I absolutely need them there to lean on, then I don’t want them in my life anyway.
“So,” I told myself. “Maybe you’re not a lesbian, but you like girls and you like guys. It’s normal. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s okay.”
Despite coming to this conclusion, it has taken considerable time for me to open up about my sexuality. I’ve come out to my friends; that part was easy. Friends are somehow endlessly supportive of you if you have the right ones. I’ve come out to strangers; you who are reading this, we’re practically strangers, and this was pretty easy. I’ve come out to the people at work, which kind of happened by accident, but that was still pretty easy to do. I’m now affectionately referred to by Eric as his little Bisexual Monster.
I haven’t come out to my family yet. This is, perhaps, the hardest step to take. My parents are true conservatives, which is about as republican and discriminating as you can get. Regardless about our many differences in beliefs, I still don’t want to let them down. I still love them, even when I hate them or when they let me down. It’s partly because of their opinions that I spent so much of my time lying to myself, but I can’t blame them for me being a coward.
Day by day, I’ve been finding it increasingly more difficult to hide my sexuality from them however. My brother made a sarcastic comment about Dick’s Sporting Goods the other day, and I almost bounced back with a comment that would’ve outed me-
It would’ve been hilarious, but alas. I stopped and had to bite my tongue. Coming out is a huge deal for something that hasn’t been so far. Aside from coming out to my family though, can you blame me for being a bit afraid?
Especially with that homophobic attack that happened last June which resulted in the largest mass shooting in the history of the United States? Even in the nineties, people who were interested in those of the same sex or gender would be given lobotomies or pressured into shock therapy. What kind of a person could recover from that? Not to mention the plethora of discrimination that occurs to LGBTQ people still today, despite how much we’ve come forward as a nation towards accepting them.
“It’s normal to feel like this now-” I tell myself. “To like both women and men. You don’t have to lie about it anymore.”
For something that feels normal to me, why isn’t it normal for the rest of the world yet?
Still, as I hinted at, it’s becoming harder to lie to them. That’s not something I want to do. I don’t want to lie to them, or to me, or to anyone really. I don’t like lying. That’s why, lately, I’ve been considering coming out of the closet… once and for all. I’m terrified, yet simultaneously I feel relieved that I’ve finally gotten to a point in my life where I might be able to tell them. A point in my life where I might be able to be myself everywhere.
I’ll figure it out eventually, both about whether to come out about my sexuality and about what getting that girl’s number means. Until then, if anyone asks, this article isn’t about dental care. Still living that mildly closeted lifestyle- the moth balls are crazy in here.