Today I want to write about something difficult. Content Note for internalised homophobia.
In Part 1, I wrote that my confusion around my sexuality stemmed from my inability to comfortably fit either the "gay" or "straight" label, that my parents raised me to be open-minded, and basically that I was not overly freaked out when I realised that (some) women (sometimes) turn me on. And all of that is true.
It is true, but. Yeah, we all knew that was coming
Feeling attraction for both women and men does not mean that I have the same feelings for women and men. And it REALLY doesn't mean that I have the same feelings about my own feelings. Meta-feelings, if you will.
See, if I'm attracted to a man, I can pretty much deal with that in the same way that a straight woman might, for the most part. I can try to flirt with him (this typically entails attempting to maintain eye contact slightly past the point of discomfort, laughing uncomfortably, and then loaning him books he will probably not read). I can push past my fears of rejection and humiliation and actually ask him out (this tends to work better). It's only on the rare occasions that an actual relationship has ensued that my bisexuality is in any way relevant to the situation - and that could be a post of its own. Probably titled "A Manual for Bi Peeps to Tell Whether Their Partner Is an Asshole".
Everything is different when I'm attracted to a woman.
To begin with, the actual feelings of attraction are followed so closely by anxiety that it's like a one-two punch: heart, then gut. Rarely do I even wonder if she could return my feelings. Instead, my concern is whether she will ever find out how I feel (or felt - I've gotten pretty good at getting over crushes, especially when I really want to be friends with the woman in question) and, if she did find out, what would she think of me? Would she be disgusted? Would she be afraid of me? I have learned to view my own attraction to women as a threat to THEM.
And in the wake of the heart- and gut-wrenching punches, sadness slips in like an anaesthetic. It is the essential aloneness of being unable to trust a friend with my true self. I've grown accustomed to the sadness. It's only recently that I've begun to push back against it with anger and determination that I do not deserve to feel this way.
Of course it helps that I am mostly out now, and I've learned to embrace the awkwardness of finding absurd ways to work a reference to my sexuality into casual conversation with new acquaintances. Things that happened at Pride Week, a celebrity crush, and my work history at my alma mater's Pride Society are all pretty useful topics. In particular, I like to think that the presence of that last one on my resume helps protect me from accidentally getting hired by any homophobes.
But the fear is still there.
Any time I meet a fascinating, funny, smart, attractive woman, there's this tension. I can come out and thus make sure that she isn't a homophobe, but what next? Maybe she makes a reference to an ex-boyfriend - well, so what? I have ex-boyfriends too. That doesn't tell me anything. The more I feel attracted to her, the more afraid I am to just ask if she's straight, or in any way hint that I could possibly ever feel attraction to HER.
Which is kind of silly, right? I mean - she already knows I'm queer. It isn't that much of a stretch. Maybe I need to find even more anger to burn up these socially imposed fears.
(But Anne, you say, why don't you just find some queer women who are out, and date one of them? Oh my lovelies, that will certainly be the topic of another blog post. Short answer: YES THAT WOULD BE GREAT.)
I don't have a resolution for this post. I don't have an iron-clad determination to go forth into the world and tell cute women that I think they're cute. Maybe I'll get there.
I'd love to hear from anyone who's felt something similar. How do you process it? What do you choose to do about it? What do you wish you could do about it? What do you think I should do about it?
No comments:
Post a Comment