Imagine for a moment that your sexuality is a shirt. What kind of shirt? Well, if you're straight, it's a loose white cotton T-shirt- breathable, roomy, and commonly seen as regular attire. If you're bi, that shirt isn't so loose anymore. it's a good fit, not quite skintight, but nothing you could wear to the gym, either. Maybe it's black, noticeable, a little different than the norm, but still fairly common. Are you gay? Then without a doubt your shirt is skintight and brightly coloured. It's loud, out there, impossible to hide. and because it's skintight, every time you move, even breathe your silhouette is plainly visible for the world to see, regardless of how bad you want to hide it.
Last night, I changed shirts.
Well, I shouldn't say I changed them, since it's pretty damn near impossible to switch shirts. I guess you could say mine shrunk. The rain washed away some black dye, leaving an acid-camo green skintight mess behind.
I've called myself bi for three years. To understand why, you have to understand a bit of my past. I was raised in a fairly unassuming household. My parents never had any sort of life-altering discussions with me, newver bothered to discuss sex, God, goals or any of the other things that parents generally talk to (or at) their kids about. Needless to say, I was basically left to my own devices. They worked for awhile, at least vaugule. I found out about sex through school and the net, but still didn't get anything about it. All I really knew was sperm met egg, woman had kid, end of story. I didn't know any physicalities. in grade 7, my folks bought a computer, and I put it to good use, fast becoming an addict to netsex in an attempt to experience and learn and feel less naive about life. That's where I first started questioning my sexuality. A woman asked me if I was a lesbian and I told her "actually, I'm bi." (this was in grade 7. I didn't come otu until grade 9).I lay in bed later that night and thought about it. I'd never had a serious attraction to either sex, and figured that might be why. No experience with either meant I could be either. No big deal to me.
Long story short, I lived in my happy little world until little over twelve hours ago. I spent the weekend in Edmonton, and met up with one of my friends, who happens to be attracted to me. She held my hand on the bus, and we snuggled until our stop. Fast-forward to last night. i'd just finished watching "Dead Like Me" and turned off the television. Suddenly, everything started replaying in my head, and I started shaking. I tried to write, but I couldn't. I ended up jotting down "I've called myself bisexual for years but i know i'm a lesbian:". My hands were shaking extremely hard by this point, so i abonded all hope of writing and called my friend Courtney (first lesbian I ever knew and best friend for four years). I talked to her, she calmed me down, told me she understood. It was nice of her, but I had slight shakes until 1:30 am.
It didn't happen suddenly. I always had an idea. I just didn't think it could come gushing at me like that, like water breakign a dam after years and years of pressure.
Fuck, did it break.
I'm getting used to it, but it feels so much differnet with this lable. So much less room to move, yet so much freedom. The freedom of knowing the truth.