Today’s words: Lesbian, Melancholy, Sorbet, Submission
Word count: 400
Completion time: 26 minutes
Summary: Sexuality isn’t as black and white as it seems
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I’m sat in the conservatory, listening to the stabbing drops of rain and spooning strawberry sorbet, pretending that it’s summer. Everything seems a little brighter then.
My eyes are closed to forget the melancholy mood and I’m sat on a beach under a parasol, watching children run around in swimsuits that are too big for them, hair stuck to their faces from the sea and sweat, and, as if to interrupt me, he pops into my head again.
I’m forced to submission as the cold dessert hits my back tooth and a sharp, searing pain runs through my mouth. Winching, I tilt my head and try to focus on the beach again, eyes squinted in the thirty-degree sun. My skin prickles with goosebumps and I think harder – the excited voices, the sandcastles, the sea, him emerging from it, eyes glinting as he stares at me.
I drop the spoon and suck the sweet flavour from my tongue.
I’m not supposed to have these feelings. I told everyone that I was a lesbian years ago, so I can’t go back on it now. I can’t let them think that I did it just for attention, to get guys to like me, or because I wanted a free pass to make out with girls. It had been seven months now, seven months since I first met him, seven months since I tried to stop him from entering my head. Out of bounds, you know? Girls only.
Once you come out, it feels like there’s no going back. You’ve said it, out loud. You’ve told everyone you’re this, meaning you’re not anything else. What’s worse is...the people who said it was just a phase...they’ll think they were right all along when that isn’t the case. I can tell them that they don’t know me at all, they’ll reply with, “You don’t even know yourself.”
I wrap my hands around myself and lightly squeeze my upper arms.
Fuck it. Fuck labels. I’m not going to restrict myself just because the ‘lesbian’ tag says I’m not allowed. Do Not Remove. Like the label on mattresses. Fuck, I’m not a mattress, I’m a person...a person who has the ability to change her mind, no matter what people conclude.
Picking up the spoon again, I scoop the last sloshy red bits from the cup and press them against the roof of my mouth.
I’ll tell him tomorrow.
In answer to your question on facebook: I never came out. Like, I never sat someone down and said "Person, I am gay, bi, queer..." I've always known that I liked more than just men, but for a long time I denied it because I thought it was an extension of abuse I had suffered when I was younger - Do I really like women, or am I just scared of men? Well, eventually I figured out that it was a combination of both things. I liked both men and women, sometimes one more than the other.
ReplyDeleteThe forming of my sexual identity happened in a quiet place within myself and I question my sexuality all the time. There are so many labels that sometimes you just need to step back from what everyone else is calling themselves and how they are defining it and just say I am what I am. Some days I like men more and some days I like women more and there are days where I like no one.