Beyond gender & sexuality

It hit me hard these last few days how dearly I've clung to a sexual identity. Truth be told, from about the time I was twelve I knew I didn't care one whit about a person's gender. I didn't care how they identified, what their sexual organs were, or any other conventional form of creating attraction.

For me, it was all about the person.

I don't want to be identified as bisexual. It's a hard lot. The lesbians shun you and assume you will leave them for a man, or that you will ask them to have sex with you and a man. They don't take you seriously. The het men often are gross and pervy, and think only of the option to satisfy their own wants. There's a stigma to being bi. People assume you are disrespectful, in it for sex, and that there is a misfunction to you, some abuse or happening that made you unable to pick a side.

So when I realized I'd have to choose, I chose lezzie. I love women. I do. I love how their soft bellies yield to my kneading fingers. I love when their voices get husky with desire, I love the soft downy hair that is nearly imperceptible as it laces the curve of their hips into their backs. I love how they smell and how they taste. It felt like no loss to identify. And it was good to have community.

But now I've been greeted by a man, and surprises, I respond. With his demanding hands on my hips, I yield. Because he knows how to ask. Because I want him to ask. And I am contented.

So I think I'll release all the labels. I thought I wanted the community, but I realize it really is as strict and narrow whether you identify as queer or het, and those labels just really never fit. It's enough for me to love the person I am with, to enjoy what he or she offers, and to relish in that person's particular beauty.