LJ Idol Three Strikes: Prompt 14 — Unconventional

[flipflop_diva]

My parents were very traditional, and their parents before them even more so. White Protestant Republicans who believed in the natural order of things — you grow up, you go to college, you get a good job, you get married, you start a family, you live your life as best you can.

Go to church when you are able. Believe in God. Don’t do drugs. Don’t have sex before marriage. Be respectable. Be a good person.

A nice little roadmap to the perfect life. Just do what you’re supposed to do. Make sure to color within the lines.

When I was a kid, I didn’t question any of this. I didn’t think there was a reason to. I thought I was happy with how things were and how they were supposed to go. And for the most part, I was.

My sister and I grew up in the same city we were born in, not leaving until we were eighteen and headed to college. We got educations, we got jobs. My sister got married a year out of grad school, and a couple years after that, my nephew was born, followed by my niece three years later.

It took me a little longer than it took my sister, but I got there. The husband, the two kids, the dog, the house. The perfect traditional life my parents always expected us to have.

Sure, not everything was how my parents would have liked — I don’t believe in God, I hate what most churches stand for, I didn’t wait to have sex and I am definitely not a Republican. I didn’t get married right out of school, not even close, and we had to do IVF to have our babies — but as to the big plot points of life, I’ve mostly done what was expected.

And I don’t want to trade it. I don’t want something else. I love my husbands and my kids and my life with all my heart.

But sometimes there is a part of me that can’t help but wonder, “What if?”

Not what if life were different now, but what if we had been raised to understand that not everyone’s truth is the same, that sometimes who we are doesn’t line up exactly with who other people expect us to be?

What if it had been more okay to not be exactly what was expected?

What if I had realized who I am years before I actually did?

—

I’m bisexual.

I’ve never said that out loud before, not even in the shower when I’m mumbling all sorts of other things to myself. It feels weird to even write it down. Like admitting to someone a deep dark secret, even when I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s just who I am.

I’ve known it for a while now. I think the people who know me best probably know it too, even if it’s never been something that has been said.

But I didn’t actually know it for a long time —a lot longer time than it would seem possible. In my family, sex and sexuality were always the taboo subjects you weren’t supposed to talk about.

When I was seven years old, my mom caught me masturbating. I didn’t know what I was doing or what it meant, not in the context of sex. I didn’t really even know what sex was back then. I just knew it felt good, and I loved the little shivers that came over my body. But I got yelled at and made to keep my bedroom door open, and I learned I wasn’t supposed to do that and if I did, I should be ashamed.

I didn’t stop of course, but I learned to do it in secret. And I learned to feel guilty about it.

When I was eleven years old, I went with my mom to the sex education course that was being held after hours at my elementary school. In our conservative city, sex education was not something to actually teach during school time, but they did have an hour-long session on it one evening.

Girls went to one place and boys went to another. We learned about periods and what changes were going to happen in our bodies. We learned that we would be able to get pregnant. We didn’t learn anything about sex, except not to do it.

On the drive home, my mom asked if I had any questions. I said no, because I was eleven and I didn’t want to talk about this with my mom, and even if I had, I was too sheltered to even know what to ask. But that was the end of it. She never brought up sex again, and I never asked. So I learned about sex the way most kids learned about sex before the internet — from my friends and TV.

But from my parents’ silence on the matter, I also learned you don’t talk about it and you don’t do it. And because of that silence, I never learned that it was okay to question things, that it was okay to not fit into a traditional mode. And for the longest time, I never even realized that it was possible to like boys and girls.

My first real indication came a few weeks shy of my thirtieth birthday. Looking back on it now, there were a lot more signs before that, but I didn’t realize what they meant, or that they meant anything at all.

But on that night, a few weeks before I turned thirty, I was out celebrating the new year with my friends. Just after the clock struck midnight, my friend Mary kissed my other friend Amber hard on the lips. Amber pushed her away, clearly not impressed and not happy, but I remember watching this and wondering what it would feel like if Mary had kissed me. And wishing so intently that she had. Or that she would. But not being nearly brave enough to say so.

Later, I would try to convince myself it was nothing but mere curiosity. It was normal to be curious, right? It was normal to want to see other women’s naked bodies. It was normal to fall in love with fictional women. It was normal to fantasize about women in sexual situations.

Until I realized it was normal for me, and that was okay.

I know now who I am, even if I don’t speak it out loud. And I know now that while my parents always wanted what was best for my sister and me, what they thought of as best wasn’t necessarily so.

I know now that life isn’t meant to be a one-size-fits-all. And if there is anything I am going to teach my children, that is it.

I don’t want them to follow a path because it should always be followed. I want them to be free to be themselves, and I want them to be free to figure out who they are without the burden of expectation placed on them by me or by their father or by anyone else in their lives.

I want them to color outside the lines, if that’s what they want. Or color inside them if they feel that’s better. But I want them to decide. I’ll give them as much information as I can, and then they can take it from there. Traditional or unconventional, it’s their life and it’s their choice, and I hope they can make of it whatever their hearts desire.



Non-fiction. This was a hard one to write.



This was written for therealljidol Three Strikes Mini Season. If you liked my entry, please consider voting for me! You should also go read all the other amazing entries. You can find them all here. Voting should be up Tuesday night!

Comments

[erulissedances]

It was an unexpectedly difficult assignment this time, wasn't it. I think you handled it beautifully, though. Most of us were brought up in the years when sexuality was something that happened behind closed doors and to other people. It was almost as if children were made because the woman had a pill to take. So bizarre. Thank goodness we finally grew out of that.

I love that you're feeling comfortable enough with yourself to explore your own sexuality, because everyone is different, it's a spectrum, not a point of reference.

Well done.

- Erulisse (one L)

[banana_galaxy]

I had a similar upbringing with how my parents were about sex, although I at least had *some* classes on it in school. But back in those days, sexuality beyond heterosexual wasn't really discussed, and if it was, it was frowned upon. I figured out I was bisexual at a younger age but as a result of some of my classmates in our final year of high school teasing me and accusing me of liking other girls and then I finally actually analysed if it was true. I hadn't realised it was a thing I could actually be.

But like you, my experience around that has led to me choosing to be more open to discussing all the different ways people can experience sexuality (including asexuality) with my kids, and I have seen they are better for it. My 11yo seems like he may be asexual and aromantic, but we'll see what happens when puberty hits. But I'm glad I've raised him in a way that he felt like he could ask me such uncomfortable questions, and I was able to answer them for him (when I explain things he's usually like, "Why would anyone want to do that?")

[xlovebecomesher]

This hit me in all the feels because I've been wanting to write an entry similar to this about my own sexuality but I haven't been able to sit down and write.

[roina_arwen]

Right there with you. Very similar upbringing, and I realized somewhere in college that I could play for either team. I do recall having several girl-crushes when I was younger, starting in fourth or fifth grade (not that I told any one at the time). Thank you for sharing.

[dadi]

Thanky you for sharing this!

[ofearthandstars]

Hello! *waves in bisexual* I didn't figure things out until my early/mid 20s, and that's even after masturbating with female friends at much younger ages (which, uhm, I'm not sure Ive shared with anyone before). I think my parents would have lost it if they'd known (but would maybe eventually come around?). I'm so glad that you are giving your own kids space to figure it out on their own. Thanks for sharing such a vulnerable part of yourself. 💜❤️💙

[mollywheezy]

I applaud your bravery for sharing something so personal and difficult to share. I have many bisexual friends and I have heard their struggles.

[drippedonpaper]

I'm so glad you feel free to be yourselves. I too was raised by very traditional parents. I am trying to raise my kids in an accepting "whoever you are, I love you" way. I hope ...I hope they feel loved. It's definitely a roller coaster.

Yay to you for being yourself! And for raising kids who know they can be whoever they are :)