When I was eleven years old, I started noticing that girls and women in my life were just so beautiful. I would see images of women in magazines and in movies and just couldn’t get past how beautiful they were. I started realizing that sometimes those images made me want to know them in a way beyond a childhood friendship. I wanted to know everything about them. I could kiss them, quite literally.
I tried to reach out to an online support, where young people could ask anonymous questions or ask for advice, and they would get a personal response. I don’t remember at the time if it was a legitimate source of support or if it was some magazine’s thing. I just remember that wanted to know if what I was experiencing was normal, and if there was something wrong with me. The person who responded told me that it was perfectly normal — lots of people go through a phase where they are attracted to the same sex.
Relieved, I moved on. Throughout high school, I had crushes on other girls and deemed them “girl crushes,” as many of my friends would say. I “dated” a couple of boys, experienced the typical drama of whatever “dating” really means in high school. I finally met someone I could really open up to when I was in grade eleven, and he told me he loved me in grade twelve.
During one of our conversations, he told me that his friends think bisexual people are just really horny, and generally just would have sex with anyone. I got angry and said that was completely unfair and didn’t make any sense. He didn’t have to say that he thought I was being stupid.
I mean, he never said it. But for most of the year and a half we were together, I always felt stupid. He did a good job of making sure of that.
But I’m not telling you this story for your pity or for you to tell me he was an asshole. (Trust me, I know that now.)
Then why am I telling you this story? Read the rest of my guest post at the lovely blog Imperfection Is My Beauty and find out 🙂