Beautiful

 When I first came out to my parents, I was 16 years old and I told them I identified as bisexual. My father didn't react in any particular way, but my mother said something immediately those words had left my lips:

"I thought you were a full-gay!"

The situation had been so nerve-wracking to me that I waited until my childhood best friend was visiting me, so that I could have her as my emotional support. It wasn't that I was scared of my parents' reactions; I knew they would accept me and love me all the same. It was just the moment of actually saying those words out loud and admitting to it – to myself as much as to my parents.

Admit that I liked girls. 

At 16, I thought that I was bi, but that turned out to be completely false. Being in a committed relationship with a man for over three years taught me a lot about myself, mainly the differences between platonic and romantic love, and what sexual attraction even means. Because that, I knew, was something I did not have for my then-partner at all. 

Because mom was right all along: I was a full-gay. A lesbian, even. But it took me until the age of 20 and being engaged to a man to finally realize it myself. That none of this was going to work for me if my partner was not a woman too. 

Hindsight is always 20/20, that's what they say. Looking back at what kind of interests I had as a Kid, what I found the most appealing in other people as a teenager, and what I spent hours and hours drawing in my tiny bedroom to then plaster those drawings on the walls...it seems borderline impossible to me how in the hell I didn't realize I was a lesbian sooner. But then I remember that one small thing that changed a lot for me.

painful to look at.

My Friends were really good at making me extremely self-aware of the fact that I was in the school dressing room, changing clothes with 10 other girls who were all looking at my early developed body, and who I did not even dare to look at back because what if I saw something I wasn't supposed to see? What if I found one of them so pretty I stayed looking at her for just a bit too long? And what would that say about me? Why was it even something that I was worried about? 

For years to come, I stayed away from them. Them, meaning girls. I couldn't look at another girl any longer than I thought was just enough, because I was scared of seeing something I liked. I didn't want them to start accusing me of doing things to them – things they had done to me just last week. So I hid from them and the feelings I felt for them. 

Me and my girlfriend have been dating for two and a half years now. During this time have I finally started to feel comfortable with looking at a naked female body – including my own. Lover has taught me to accept my lesbianism and view it as just one part of who I am as a person. And it is a part I don't have to hide away from anymore. 

And now, it doesn't hurt nearly as much either.

With pride,

ichigonya