***DISCLAIMER: Ok, I know this is a beauty blog, but it’s also a place for me to safely vent about life, and get stuff off of my chest. That’s what this post tonight is going to be.***
I first noticed that I liked girls when I was in fifth grade. I was visiting the local middle school at the end of the year to get an idea about what sixth grade would be like. We were each paired up with a seventh grader, and spent some time following them around.
I was paired with a girl named Kylee. She was beautiful, and nice, and helpful, and she had a really great butt. I remember sitting behind her as she stood up and sang for choir, and I kept looking at her butt, and thinking to myself, “What are you doing, weirdo?? She’s a girl! You’re not gay. Stop being weird.” But I couldn’t stop being weird.
My attraction to women didn’t stop there, but fortunately I was attracted to guys too! I say fortunately, because my mother definitely would have lost her shit if I told her I liked girls. Like…lost her shit. So, I dated boys throughout middle school, high school, and college. I actually met my husband when I was a Sophomore in college. But none of that ever made me less gay. I always had that attraction to women that I could never act on for fear of being cast out.
Hence, my unusually intimate friendships with girls. I always felt so attached to the women in my life. My best friend from middle school, on has called herself my “surrogate husband” on many occasions. She has been to OBGYN appointments with me, we always slept in the same bed when she was over, and I always felt so much more at ease with her than I ever felt with a guy. It was never sexual, just intimate. Deep. I felt a connection with her that I couldn’t find with anyone else until I met my husband.
Now, I’m 25. I had never told ANYONE, not a single living soul (save for my sister one time when I was drunk), that I like girls. It has been my deepest darkest secret.
But, I finally told someone. My husband.
The support and love that he showed for me was beyond anything I expected. He already had a hunch that I wasn’t straight. He didn’t ask for a threeway, he didn’t tell me I was being stupid, he didn’t say it was a phase that would pass–he hugged me and told me that he would ALWAYS love me and be there for me, and that my bisexuality didn’t change that at all. He showed me the acceptance and love that I never thought possible. He encouraged me to reach out to other gay girls, and talk to them, and get to know myself more. He encouraged me to be myself.
Thanks to his support and love, I finally felt comfortable coming out to my sisters. I nonchalantly mentioned it to a couple co-workers, who were accepting and wonderful. I couldn’t have asked for better people in my life. My parents still don’t know–and neither do most of my friends. But, here I am. Telling all of you. I’m bi–and I’m free. 💗💜💙
If any of you ever feel like you need to talk, vent, or anything–message me. I would love to be that light in the dark for anyone who is struggling with who they are, or anyone who just needs to talk some stuff out.