|Guess I'm a Lesbian, Then
Author: Keroanne PM
Basically, it's just a story about how I figured out that I'm a lesbian. If you're offended by that or think I'm gross... please, just... don't review...Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Romance - Words: 1,201 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 2 - Published: 10-12-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2855229
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Ah ha... I've been thinking about doing this for the longest of times... just ranting about myself. Since I don't have a journal or a blog, I decided to do it here, even if I never ever ever ever get on here.
Anyway, that's not what this is about. Well, it is, but not directly...
Before I start telling you about the wonderful adventure I've had about this, I'll have to make some things clear. I was born and raised in a Mormon family, whose beliefs are rather strict, as you might have heard.
The schools I went to are a little weird. As in, sixth grade is part of elementary school, not middle school, and ninth grade is part of middle school instead of high school.
Now, onto my sob story that I just need to get out.
Ever since I was a little kid, I wasn't really interested in boy bodies as much as I was in girl's bodies. I remember that when I played with my friend's barbies, I loved to be the girls and have them wear skimpy outfits. It excited me for some reason to see Barbie wearing such tiny clothes, or, sometimes, have her not wear clothes when I was getting her changed.
I knew it was kind of bad, but I really liked it, so I didn't care, really. From a young age, girls were always the more attractive gender.
As I got a little bit older, some part of my mind must have realized that it wasn't normal, so it changed my way of thinking to say that I had to like boys. Any time I got a crush on a boy during my elementary years (which only happened twice), it felt... forced.
However, that didn't change some things; whenever the topic of homosexuality came up in conversations, my family was all strongly against it. I didn't understand. Why was it bad? Why was loving someone of the same gender bad? Was it really evil?
During sixth grade, I started to become interested in Japanese anime. During seventh grade, I feel deeply in love with it.
During eighth grade, I learned about something while watching an anime called Death Note; yaoi. Boy on boy. Gay. Boy's love. Whatever you want to call it.
I wasn't particularly interested in it. However, I was interested in the prospect that, since there was gay anime, that there might be lesbian anime.
The Mormon side of me screamed out against it, telling me that homosexuality was wrong and evil and all of that crap. However, the rest of me was saying that it was all right... saying that you need to do what your heart says, and your heart is telling you to look at some lesbian stuff.
Of course, I ended up listening to my heart. Seeing girls kissing or holding hands or hugging in a romantic way... it made my heart feel light and my head feel dizzy.
I liked it. I really, honestly liked it.
For the longest of times, I thought it was some sort of weird lust. I had never felt anything for another girl besides friendship. For two years, I kept telling myself that I was looking at those romantic pictures of girls because it was some drug type of thing.
No, I never looked at porn or masturbated. My conservative brain is too fragile for that.
During ninth grade, I decided that I would figure out whether I was just interested in homosexuality because I knew I couldn't have it, or because I was honestly homosexual myself.
And now we jump ahead to tenth grade, in my art class. I sat all alone on my table, with no real friends. I was okay with that, but I still had hoped that my best friend would be in my class, since she also had an interest in drawing.
We were asked to draw a self-portrait of ourselves, so I started drawing. I stood up to get some coloring utensils when I saw a girl whose drawing abilities far surpassed my own.
I guess that's how it all started, then. I became interested in this girl who sat one row over and one row back because of the way she drew.
I would always watch for when she came in from that time on, secretly stealing glances at her. I wasn't sure what my obsession with her was, but I knew that I wanted her to notice me.
During an assignment, my teacher happened to ask me to sit between a couple of rows because of where I was seated so I could see the white board better. I did so and found myself right behind her.
A stupidly happy smile came onto my face. Of course, I thought it was excitement at being able to see a better artist at work.
I happened to put it down at one point, my fingers being tired. The girl glanced over her shoulder to see my art, and my heart jumped into my throat. Just having her see it was good enough for me.
"That's really good," she said.
The feeling of nervousness I got from her looking at my art suddenly changed into idiotic happiness. My entire body felt like it was about to explode from blushing and happiness.
"Th- thanks," I managed to finally say, my entire face burning.
As I stood up to grab my eraser from my backpack, it hit me. Why I always stared at her as she came in, always noting the most insignificant things, always feeling these butterflies when she would glance around and her gaze would fall on me for a second.
I had a crush on her.
It was extremely hard for me to accept. Liking girls in such a way... in a romantic way... my feelings were really like that?
I talked myself into the idea of being bi-sexual for about two weeks before realizing, very suddenly, that it wasn't like that. I liked girls. Only girls. I hadn't been able to picture myself in a romantic way with a boy since I was a very little girl.
I am a lesbian... but I'm not really that proud.
I'm still at the age when I'm trying to figure everything out about me, and I hope to continue... maybe I'll make some sort of huge discovery about myself again. I hope not. I'm still slightly shocked from knowing I'm lesbian after thinking I was straight for so long.
I'm a little terrified as well. I've never been in a straight relationship, and now I really don't want to be in one. I don't know how girls... uhh... do it. I don't know how I'm supposed to tell my Mormon family that I'm homosexual.
I'm scared for the future, but at least I know who I am, now. And I can at least be proud of that fact, even if I'm not exactly thrilled because of what I am.