The L Word? Or the B Word?

Growing up, it never occurred to me that I might be anything other than straight. People who weren’t straight were equal parts satanic, disgusting, and sad. 
Also, I liked girls. The only dreams I ever had that caused any sexual response in me involved girls. 
Those two things (that I liked girls and that I couldn’t be anything other than straight) never really collided for me. I took for granted that I’d marry a man, and I started praying for my future husband when I was, oh, probably 12. 
I had crushes on boys. I wanted boys to like me. I read books about Christian purity, and I read Christian romance novels. With very few exceptions, the fictional women were reluctant to pursue romantic relationships, and they had to be worn down by the male characters (or rescued, or arranged into marriage). And then they’d be really happy. 
I thought that maybe I’d be pursued by someone like that, or more than one someone. I thought that sex would be one of the better things to happen to me. I thought that I was turned on by guys (and not the feeling of power I got from knowing I was attractive to them. I looked forward to marriage and sex, even boring sex, because of all the good close feelings that would come of it, and I knew it would be my duty to fulfill my husband’s sexual needs. I felt like there was honor and goodness in that. 
I got married when I was 20. I no longer have the prayer journal entry in which I wrote (to God) that I thought it was weird that God would bring me a husband to whom I wasn’t particularly physically attracted. Now…I won’t say that our sex was ‘bad.’ We figured it out together. I will say, though, that mentally I always had to think of women in order to, ahem, get my motor running. 
I told my ex husband about my attraction to women when we had been married for probably five years. I figured it didn’t matter. So, this meant I was bisexual. I was in a heterosexual marriage, and we were monogamous (though he suggested we branch out into threesomes…), so it was a non-issue. 
When we eventually separated and divorced, and my beliefs changed drastically, I figured I’d start dating women. 
That’s how I learned I really liked women. 😳
I also dated men. I identified as bisexual. 
Then I started to realize that I really didn’t like going out with the guys. I just…didn’t. 
The only reason I continued to call myself bisexual was that I’d liked boys growing up. I just didn’t like them anymore. I had a frank conversation with a friend, though, in which she asked me if I wanted to have sex with a man again. I said no. 
That’s how I came to identify as a lesbian. It fits me like worn out jeans, and I like it. 


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