"Sexuality is Fluid"
It's a phrase that gets tossed around a lot. I'm not sure what I think of it to be honest. Most of my friends are so straight I don't think they could even draw a curved line! I love them for this, but I don't think I could ever picture them not being straight. (that being said, if any of you ever feel like you aren't straight as an arrow, you know you can always come to me and I'll love you no matter what!)
For me sexuality has been a struggle. Not just who I'm attracted to, but how often I find myself attracted/ craving sexual attention. Lets go back to the beginning.
1993-
I'm two years old. You can usually find me in a frog position on the floor rocking back and forth. Two fingers in my mouth, blanky in hand. It sooths me, I feel peace. I think about lots of things while I do this- family, toys, tv shows. At a certain point in the process my head floods with thoughts and images and then BOOM one thing sticks out, then it's over.
I realize now that what I had been doing was masturbating. Orgasming.
1997-
I am six years old. "I'll be the boy!" I am always the boy. My alter-ego is Levi. I pull him off perfectly. My hair has been short for years, I push it back with finesse. I have a stick straight body, and when I'm not wearing skirts or dresses I am often mistaken for a boy. Levi is artsy and sensitive, but always very very horny. He prefers tall blonds with blue eyes, and is in awe with the female body.
It's that time in our game of house for the mommy and daddy to have alone time. "Lets kiss!" I suggest. We put our hands to our mouths and do our version of a stage kiss. Sloppily kissing my hand, I realize I'd rather be kissing her. I tend to turn all my games of house sexual at this stage in my life. Sometimes I would just run my hands along 'my wife's' sides, sometimes we'd just stage kiss. But I imagined much more.
1998-
I am 7 years old. I remember feeling a rush, knowing what I was doing was somehow not acceptable. I didn't understand why. My best friend is lying on my bed completely naked. Mom had told me before that my friends and I aren't supposed to get naked around each other, it was "inappropriate" (I kind of hate that word, who gets to decide what is appropriate?). I lean over her "what seems to be the problem?"
"Well doctor, my tummy hurts"
"Maybe you're going to have a baby! Let me check!"
I run my hands along her stomach. Then all of the sudden I hear it...stairs creaking.
"Quick! My mom is coming, hide somewhere!" I distinctly remember her hiding behind the corner of my dresser. It wasn't enough, mom saw her standing there completely naked. I immediately felt so much shame. I was a terrible person and I didn't even know why. I didn't see my friend for a little while after that. I think friends came and went because mothers decided they didn't want their daughters to be friends with a girl like me.
I remember around the same time another best friend and I would play barbies and when the barbies would start to make out and stuff I would really really want to make out with my best friend. We thought sex was when a boy peed on a girl. I would always play the ken doll so when it was time for sex I'd make a long "shhh" sound to signify peeing.
2003-
I am twelve years old. My best friend is one of the most popular girls in school. She is beautiful. She has thick long hair, a gorgeous carmel color. She has cheeks like a chipmunk, but on her they look perfect. She is so svelte, yet strong from swimming. All the boys love her. I love her. When she and my crush three-way called me to tell me they were going to start dating, even though they both knew I liked him. I don't know if I was more crushed that he was dating her, or that she was dating him.
I helped her time and time again with boys that broke her heart. She'd cry to me on the phone, in the crawl space of her room. I'd help her because I was a good friend, be silly so she would laugh and forget her hurt. But really I would cry, because I knew she deserved better, I knew I would treat her better.
2005-
I am fourteen. I'm in love with my best friend. I told myself it was a friendly kind of love. But at this point I realized this was the first time I'd really fallen for a girl. I wrote about her in my diary, later I would tear out these pages. I dated lots of guys, many of whom I'm still attracted to! None of them I really loved.
2007-
I am nearly 16, I have my first serious boyfriend. He is amazing. I love the way his bones protrude from under his thin skin, the way his big hands engulf my face when he leans in to kiss me. He is the first person I told about the things in my past I was so unsure of. He is the first person I give everything to. It doesn't last
2008-
I am 16. It's the summer before my junior year. I can drive. I have some older friends. I am a lifegaurd. Tan, thin with extensions that are long and blonde. I am hot and I know it. I sometimes refer to this as my reckless summer. I go to parties, drink, and make out with boys like it's my job. I meet my next serious boyfriend at the end of this summer.
2009-
I am 17. I'm depressed. I have a serious boyfriend. The second and only other boy I've given everything to. He becomes my world, but he would never let me become his. I'm too crazy, too this too that. Not enough of what he needs. I am not beautiful enough, not thin enough. I hate myself for not being everything he wants me to be.
2010-
I am 19. It's fall of my first year in college. It's a party in my room. The last boyfriend and I had broken up, but were still close. She is still in high school. She is drunk. She kisses me. She likes me. We talk about so much. She calls me beautiful, she listens, she cries. I am enamored with the warmth she fills me with. One day she stops talking to me. She leaves me for someone I could never be. A boy.
2011-
I am still 19. I am being awoken from my souls slumber. It wants to know who I am, it wants to know what makes me happy. I begin to find pieces of things that I can piece together to create happiness. I finally find what I've been looking for nearly my whole life. Someone who understands. Someone who's empathy matches my own. She is three years my senior, and she is everything I want to be. She teaches me how to find myself, holds my hand as I look for happiness. She is my first pure love. Love that makes me feel happy instead of sad. Love that feels full instead of empty. Love that asks for nothing in return. For a brief period of time we get to pretend like she isn't leaving in a few weeks. Like she isn't going across the country to start the rest of her life. That was a beautiful period of time. I will never regret that time, and I am so glad to still have her in my life :)
After finding that love, I realized I needed to figure out what my sexuality means to me. I've decided it is not something that defines me, but is inherently a part of me.
I am not straight, bisexual, pansexual, a lesbian.
I am Bri, a sexual being. I find love and sexual desire based upon the person's soul. I kind of enjoy the term I use in my head- omnisexual. I like all things sexual :)
So there you have it. Perhaps my sexuality is fluid, strange, unbelievable. But you cannot define it, because it does not define me. It simply is.
It's a phrase that gets tossed around a lot. I'm not sure what I think of it to be honest. Most of my friends are so straight I don't think they could even draw a curved line! I love them for this, but I don't think I could ever picture them not being straight. (that being said, if any of you ever feel like you aren't straight as an arrow, you know you can always come to me and I'll love you no matter what!)
For me sexuality has been a struggle. Not just who I'm attracted to, but how often I find myself attracted/ craving sexual attention. Lets go back to the beginning.
1993-
I'm two years old. You can usually find me in a frog position on the floor rocking back and forth. Two fingers in my mouth, blanky in hand. It sooths me, I feel peace. I think about lots of things while I do this- family, toys, tv shows. At a certain point in the process my head floods with thoughts and images and then BOOM one thing sticks out, then it's over.
I realize now that what I had been doing was masturbating. Orgasming.
1997-
I am six years old. "I'll be the boy!" I am always the boy. My alter-ego is Levi. I pull him off perfectly. My hair has been short for years, I push it back with finesse. I have a stick straight body, and when I'm not wearing skirts or dresses I am often mistaken for a boy. Levi is artsy and sensitive, but always very very horny. He prefers tall blonds with blue eyes, and is in awe with the female body.
It's that time in our game of house for the mommy and daddy to have alone time. "Lets kiss!" I suggest. We put our hands to our mouths and do our version of a stage kiss. Sloppily kissing my hand, I realize I'd rather be kissing her. I tend to turn all my games of house sexual at this stage in my life. Sometimes I would just run my hands along 'my wife's' sides, sometimes we'd just stage kiss. But I imagined much more.
1998-
I am 7 years old. I remember feeling a rush, knowing what I was doing was somehow not acceptable. I didn't understand why. My best friend is lying on my bed completely naked. Mom had told me before that my friends and I aren't supposed to get naked around each other, it was "inappropriate" (I kind of hate that word, who gets to decide what is appropriate?). I lean over her "what seems to be the problem?"
"Well doctor, my tummy hurts"
"Maybe you're going to have a baby! Let me check!"
I run my hands along her stomach. Then all of the sudden I hear it...stairs creaking.
"Quick! My mom is coming, hide somewhere!" I distinctly remember her hiding behind the corner of my dresser. It wasn't enough, mom saw her standing there completely naked. I immediately felt so much shame. I was a terrible person and I didn't even know why. I didn't see my friend for a little while after that. I think friends came and went because mothers decided they didn't want their daughters to be friends with a girl like me.
I remember around the same time another best friend and I would play barbies and when the barbies would start to make out and stuff I would really really want to make out with my best friend. We thought sex was when a boy peed on a girl. I would always play the ken doll so when it was time for sex I'd make a long "shhh" sound to signify peeing.
2003-
I am twelve years old. My best friend is one of the most popular girls in school. She is beautiful. She has thick long hair, a gorgeous carmel color. She has cheeks like a chipmunk, but on her they look perfect. She is so svelte, yet strong from swimming. All the boys love her. I love her. When she and my crush three-way called me to tell me they were going to start dating, even though they both knew I liked him. I don't know if I was more crushed that he was dating her, or that she was dating him.
I helped her time and time again with boys that broke her heart. She'd cry to me on the phone, in the crawl space of her room. I'd help her because I was a good friend, be silly so she would laugh and forget her hurt. But really I would cry, because I knew she deserved better, I knew I would treat her better.
2005-
I am fourteen. I'm in love with my best friend. I told myself it was a friendly kind of love. But at this point I realized this was the first time I'd really fallen for a girl. I wrote about her in my diary, later I would tear out these pages. I dated lots of guys, many of whom I'm still attracted to! None of them I really loved.
2007-
I am nearly 16, I have my first serious boyfriend. He is amazing. I love the way his bones protrude from under his thin skin, the way his big hands engulf my face when he leans in to kiss me. He is the first person I told about the things in my past I was so unsure of. He is the first person I give everything to. It doesn't last
2008-
I am 16. It's the summer before my junior year. I can drive. I have some older friends. I am a lifegaurd. Tan, thin with extensions that are long and blonde. I am hot and I know it. I sometimes refer to this as my reckless summer. I go to parties, drink, and make out with boys like it's my job. I meet my next serious boyfriend at the end of this summer.
2009-
I am 17. I'm depressed. I have a serious boyfriend. The second and only other boy I've given everything to. He becomes my world, but he would never let me become his. I'm too crazy, too this too that. Not enough of what he needs. I am not beautiful enough, not thin enough. I hate myself for not being everything he wants me to be.
2010-
I am 19. It's fall of my first year in college. It's a party in my room. The last boyfriend and I had broken up, but were still close. She is still in high school. She is drunk. She kisses me. She likes me. We talk about so much. She calls me beautiful, she listens, she cries. I am enamored with the warmth she fills me with. One day she stops talking to me. She leaves me for someone I could never be. A boy.
2011-
I am still 19. I am being awoken from my souls slumber. It wants to know who I am, it wants to know what makes me happy. I begin to find pieces of things that I can piece together to create happiness. I finally find what I've been looking for nearly my whole life. Someone who understands. Someone who's empathy matches my own. She is three years my senior, and she is everything I want to be. She teaches me how to find myself, holds my hand as I look for happiness. She is my first pure love. Love that makes me feel happy instead of sad. Love that feels full instead of empty. Love that asks for nothing in return. For a brief period of time we get to pretend like she isn't leaving in a few weeks. Like she isn't going across the country to start the rest of her life. That was a beautiful period of time. I will never regret that time, and I am so glad to still have her in my life :)
After finding that love, I realized I needed to figure out what my sexuality means to me. I've decided it is not something that defines me, but is inherently a part of me.
I am not straight, bisexual, pansexual, a lesbian.
I am Bri, a sexual being. I find love and sexual desire based upon the person's soul. I kind of enjoy the term I use in my head- omnisexual. I like all things sexual :)
So there you have it. Perhaps my sexuality is fluid, strange, unbelievable. But you cannot define it, because it does not define me. It simply is.
