So I met this girl.
I fell in love with her, and it was the easiest thing I’d ever done. Falling wasn’t even the right word; it was more like the gentle fitting into place of perfectly matched pieces, or falling into step with someone whose stride is exactly the same length as yours. Not the g-force drama I’ve had with men, none of the dizzying uncertainty and gale-force emotions. Instead there was something sweet and inevitable, a warmth and rightness that I felt the first time I met her and haven’t stopped feeling since whenever we’re together.
Except, life is complicated and full and we’re not together that much. And it’s easy, yes, except for the one little detail that I’ve never been in love with a girl before. I’ve wanted to be, and there have been sparks and moments, but deep down I thought I was straight. I’m around naked women ALL THE TIME and the only thing I notice is the way the right light brings out a beauty they didn’t know they had. Heady stuff, but no romance to it.
So this was easy, except that anytime I wasn’t with her I would trip over my doubts and demons- I’m not “gay enough.” A woman couldn’t really want me like that (thanks, society). I’m just playing, pretending, the straight girl who is going to break her heart. It’s all TOO easy- new love is supposed to be sharp and loud and fiery and uncomfortable. It’s not supposed to just gently slide its hand into yours and keep walking.
So the past few months I have been struggling. It’s been a hard few months in a lot of ways; my complicated adopted daughter has been in crisis and has taken most of my time, energy and emotional resources. My demons have been out in full force. And so I haven’t told you about this girl who is one of the bright spots in my life, because I guess I just didn’t believe it was real. Or that I deserved her. Or that I wasn’t just faking it, somehow.
Yesterday she and I almost ended things. To be honest, I’m still not sure what shape they will take. It turns out both of us were trying so hard to be what we thought we should be that we’d lost sight of the fact that we were both strong enough to hold each others’ flaws and uncertainties. I think we know that now, but I don’t know what she will want this to be, moving forward.
So ironically, this “coming out” happens not when I have a pretty romance between two pretty girls to show you but instead when I’m not really sure where this is going at all. What I do know, though, is that yesterday I was finally able to let the clouds clear.
I’m gay enough. I’m in love with a woman. I want to kiss her when she cries and hold hands with her when we walk and I’m not “just playing,” except inasmuch as a playful attitude towards life and love is one of the beautiful things we share. It’s okay for this thing I’ve never done before to feel different from the things I have done, and when I let go of worrying about how I should be, act, and feel, I can see that it feels… right.
She’s amazing. She’s strong, but willow-strong, bending almost to the ground sometimes under a storm and then coming back up to her full graceful height. She’s sweet, and kind, and giving, and sees the world with the fresh eyes of a child or a traveller from another place, but she’s not naive and not perfect. I like her that way.She dances like it’s her soul dancing instead of her body and she is teaching me by example that it’s okay to find your own spiritual path and to believe in a way that brings you both comfort and joy. She is graceful, and powerful, and sometimes crass and rough and ridiculous. <3 She has a warmth and openness that draws people to her like moths. And I love the person I am around her- warmer, softer, more open. Wherever this relationship of ours goes, I’m grateful for the parts of myself she’s helped me to find.
Happy Pride month, everyone.
The Fine Print
1- I’m still with Ben. He and I don’t choose to feel romantic love only for each other. It’s a complicated life, but we like it. Feel free to ask us about it sometime if you’re curious.
2- Obviously coming out on my business page may have some ramifications, so let me be clear: whether you’re a man or a woman, I’m not going to be turned on by photographing you. I don’t know if this is a function of professionalism or if it’s a handy side effect of being demisexual (short version: on the asexual spectrum, I can’t feel attraction to someone I’m not already in love with) but either way, I just don’t like you that way. Sorry. 😉