I get in moods where I want to write, but the blinking cursor just mocks me. Sometimes the words flow, other times I can’t put my thoughts into words. I’m sitting here thinking about my life. On the surface, it seems pretty normal. I have an awesome husband, we have a house, two working vehicles, and we both work.
But below the surface, I am anything but typical. I am bisexual. That is more acknowledged now, than it was when I was young. I honestly did not know that was a legitimate sexuality. I knew what a lesbian was, but I thought you were either straight, or gay. Combined with my religious upbringing, and my ignorance, I couldn’t recognize that I was bisexual.
It took me 46 years to accept that I am bisexual. And once I did accept it, new problems arose. I love my husband, but then I was bombarded with the cravings to experience being with a woman. His thought that he should be enough. I shouldn’t want to be with a woman too. He didn’t/doesn’t understand that there is a difference between desiring a man, and a woman.
I haven’t had the experience of having sex with a woman. (And most likely, I won’t) I’ve had one sexual experience with a female. I fingered her, and I made her squirt. To me, that is a sexual act, but not quite sex. None of my clothes came off, and I wasn’t touched.
I didn’t have an emotional attachment to her. It happened in my van, in a parking lot. It wasn’t extremely satisfying for me, but it did confirm that I am physically attracted to women. And according to me friend, that makes me officially bisexual.
Not only am I bisexual, I love more than one person. Up until 4 years ago, I had no idea that it was even possible to love more than one person romantically. Then, three years ago, I fell for a third person.
In a way, the people I love show how open my heart is. My husband is ten years older than I am. He’s as white as can be. J is 18 years younger, and he’s black. Neither fact makes a difference to my heart. I do accept reality though. I was destined to love him, but not to ever be with him. I can deal with that. The third person… T is a white woman two years younger than I am. She’s married to a woman. Once again, I accept the love I have, but I know there is no relationship possible other than friendship.
So, I’m bisexual, and poly-amorous by nature. Both facts were a surprise to me. But the older I get, the more I learn about myself. There is always the thought in the back of my mind, “How could I not know that I am bisexual?” It’s kind of easy to ignore when you assume every female feels the same way towards other women.
I never had close female friends to discuss those feelings with. The attraction to males was a given. The attraction to females was never mentioned. Once again, I thought you could only be straight, or gay.
I wonder how different my life would have been had I known sooner. Would I have found a way to experiment with a female? Would I have even tried? Or would I have become self loathing, and ended my life?
I am a Christian. I don’t find a conflict between my faith, and my sexuality. I believe God made me who I am. The attraction I feel towards women is natural. Being in love with a woman is natural. But then again, being in love with two very different men is natural to me too.
I am an open minded person. I don’t have a problem with anyone until they give me a reason to have a problem. I don’t understand racism at all. How can you hate someone because of something they have absolutely no control over?
I know that I’ve written about these thoughts before. I’m like a broken record sometimes. But seeing my thoughts in print helps me to see things more clearly. I’m a simple person, but I’m also complicated. How many people can admit that they love three people romantically? It does seem bizarre, and a bit excessive.
My life seems normal, but I am not. I’m not average. I am unique. One of the most incredible things to me, is that I love three people, and they care for me too. It’s amazing to me to be on the receiving end of that love.
Sometimes, all I wanted to be, was normal. I didn’t want to be attracted to men & women. I wanted a normal body that functioned the way it’s supposed to. Instead, I got the fat genes, and I am infertile.
It’s funny how society has always told me that I’m not worthy of being loved because of what I am. But in reality, I am very well loved, and very blessed. I am not normal, and that doesn’t matter at all.
I am different. It is both a blessing, and a curse. I’m an empath, and that allows me to connect deeply with some people. I don’t have many close friends, but I have a few that mean the world to me. I love deeply.
Being different is often difficult. Being attracted to both sexes is awkward for me. I don’t know how to act. I am shy, and I get tongue tied. That’s painful.
So, I’m not normal. I get to love several people, and be loved back. I get to check out all kinds of people. I point out attractive women to my husband. (We both tend to like curvy women) I may appear normal to a casual onlooker, but I have a depth most people will never know. Being normal is over rated anyway.