I have read several blog posts recently about bisexuality, its stigmas, questions about it, the lack of understanding, and so forth. As a bisexual woman, I felt it was my civic duty to share with you my experience to give you one perspective of millions, I’m sure. Everyone has their own story about their sexuality, relationships, romance, etc. This is only mine.
I only accepted my sexuality after I met Her (my special friend outside of my marriage, for all of you just joining the conversation). We met online, then in person, but only established our “more than friends” relationship online later. There was no doubt I was falling in love with her, and very attracted to her. I had visited her, only as a friend, when she was here visiting family. We spent a weekend together, and I could feel something between us, but I thought it was because she was such a great person and we resonated in so many areas. It was only after she left for her own country that I noticed how much I wanted to talk with her constantly, and I was always thinking about her. I didn’t think it would go anywhere, except more friendship. She hadn’t even told me yet that she was lesbian. Then one day, she did. She could feel what was happening between us and wanted to talk about it. I denied anything at first, reminding her that I’m married, etc. She would have nothing to do with my denials, but that’s how strong the energy was getting between us. So I finally admitted it. I’m not sure what either of us were thinking at the time, we just knew what we were feeling. The next time she came to town, we had the most beautiful time together.
So that was the consummation of accepting that I am bisexual, but I have through the years been attracted to women, not always ones who were available to me. Being bisexual is a bit stranger than being straight or gay…Since I could blend in to the hetero mainstream, I didn’t think much about what I felt, except that those thoughts were probably not okay. No one talked about bisexuality when I was a kid, you know? I always would stand up against people talking bad about being gay, probably because of my own private feelings, but never applied that “right to exist” to myself.
I was mostly attracted to guys in high school and college; or, at least, those were the feelings I acted upon. The others I just tried to brush off. When I was 10 years old, there was a nurse at the Girl Scout Camp I attended. Her camp name was Birch and I had the biggest crush on her. She was the nurse and made announcements every morning. She had a sweet smile. My hands would sweat, and stomach flip every time I saw her. I shared in an early post that I wasn’t smart enough to hurt myself so I’d have to go see her. I’d probably be too shy anyway. When I was in college, I realize now I had a fan girl crush on Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls. I still do, actually. God, that woman is the perfect picture of hotness to me–my “type”–a little on the masculine side, but with definite femininity that shows through. I had a severe crush on my best-friend-who-is-also-lesbian, and we talked about my attraction to her when it was going on. I’m not her type, fortunately, so we just became close friends. I was married then, too. I’m not sure how I brushed that one off. I think I justified that I was misinterpreting the fun we had together, and how easy it was to talk with her.
I have always felt more compatible as friends with lesbian woman than with straight women. I’m a mom in the suburbs but can’t relate to other suburban moms. They are far too girly-girl for my taste. My experience has simply been that lesbian women are more interesting.
Even though I have only been with men before Her, my fantasy life has always been about women, with the rare exception. I read somewhere years ago that in advertising, women see women and put themselves in their place, understanding how she would feel; while men don’t. That is why there are more photos of women in ads in women’s magazines, and photos of women outnumbering men in men’s magazines. Women relate to women; men relate to how a woman makes them feel. Anyway, I brushed off my fantasies to that…but still kept them going! Nearly every time I have made love with my husband, I use my own fantasies to help me be with him. I saw an interview with Lady Gaga a few years ago, where she was answering the question, “What does your song “Poker Face” really mean?” She shared that it was because when she had sex with her boyfriend, she was thinking about women. Whoa! I’m not the only one??? That was the first time I ever felt that maybe something wasn’t wrong with me, that I was not repressed sexually, after all, and my fantasies weren’t a sign of some kind of mental illness or other sickness.
I took a class in college on LGBTQ issues as an elective, thinking that, since I was such a goddamn accepting person, that it would be an easy class for me. I learned more for life in that class than any others. As well as myself, even if I didn’t admit it at that time. My instructor was lesbian and dating someone who identified as female-to-male (f2m). She disclosed a few of her own challenges with the process her partner was going through. When they got together, he hadn’t decided to become male yet. She fell in love with a woman, she shared with us, and isn’t attracted to men, so she was having a hard time accepting his process as far as their relationship went. She broke up with him by the time the semester was over.
Also during that class, we had a heated discussion about bisexuality and monogamy. Is it possible for someone who is bisexual to be satisfied with committing to one side of their attraction possibilities? In my self-righteous younger days, I argued yes, of course! It is about commitment, love, respect. I mean, if my husband wanted to have sex with someone with bigger boobs than me just because that is what also turns him on, no thank you! There is no difference!
Well, now that I am not a woman/woman virgin anymore, I can tell you that it is very different. Being intimate with Her was vastly different than being with a man. Part of my difficulties that I have oozed all over this blog the last five months is because I love being with her as a woman. I miss that a lot. I miss her in all, but that’s not what this post is about. I miss the softness of a woman, inside and out. I am having to let that go because of my decision to remain with my family. Yes, I love my husband, sex is good, he is a good person. But my fantasies about women continue.
My best-friend-who-is-also-lesbian said to me after hearing about my affair (and after offering me a toaster saying “Welcome to the club”), “You can’t unknow what you know.” And that is so true. If I had never been with Her, I wouldn’t know what I was missing. I could have continued to deny my thoughts and feelings as just “stupid fantasies”, and “if I was really faced with having sex with a woman I would probably not truly be interested.” But those days are gone.
That said, I still believe in monogamy, as many of you do. My affair wasn’t only about sex. If it was, I’d have no problem finding some local woman to have sex with whenever the urge arose. And, as I recently wrote to a new friend I found here, “It is still more a matter of love, acceptance and happiness with life that is important, and to achieve that, we all have to make choices, you know? And when we choose one thing, we close the door to something else. That’s life. And, sometimes our choices get made for us. That’s life, too. This is cliché now, but it really isn’t what happens to us in life that makes or breaks us, but what we do with those experiences.”
Thanks for reading. Thanks for your interest in one small story out of many billion that are out there.