So...Are You Gay or Not?

When I started high school, I crushed hard on a boy sitting across from me in chemistry. I had angst, I brooded, I tried and failed to speak to him, and the crippling blow: I daydreamed like crazy. After a semester of feelings, I moved on and realized with a peculiar twinge, that I hadn’t liked him that much. Like the masochist I am, I loved pining. I loved the chase, being chased, the banter, and flirting. 

It seemed though that my pining took it up a notch senior year. I had unwittingly put away in a box my attraction to women. And my heart was not going to let me live a life without experiencing my true sexuality at least once. It’s weird explaining this to straightforward heterosexuals. I’d imagine it’s hard to understand if never experienced. 

What do you mean you didn’t know you liked girls? Didn’t you ever think about them? How could that have barely clicked at the age of 17? 

Stray, but strong thoughts breezed past me ever since I was a little girl. I remember staring at my friend in 1^st grade. I remembered the constant panic in 2^nd grade having to unnecessarily reassure my mom that when I said I liked Jordan, I meant the boy, not the girl. But growing up your whole life never knowing you could have both cake and pie is weird. 

I didn’t feel gay. I had pined for my fair sure of good looking boys. 

I didn’t feel straight or bi-curious. Girls are so pretty and nice. 

Inevitably, I got to where everyone does: the “thin line” between straight and gay. For some, it becomes evident. Yes! The opposite sex rules! For others, my sex always did have everything going for them. It becomes a confusing mess for all others.

Although, I’d finally heard of bisexuality or at least being bi-curious through songs like Katy Perry’s I Kissed a Girl, it was still taboo. I judged myself. Why couldn’t I pick? I was just being slutty. How dare I even think about girls like that? NO ONE CAN KNOW. 

Senior year, I fell in love with a girl, but more than that I learned a lot about myself. Empowered with knowing that I was bisexual, I came out a week later. Although I love my parents, all you need to know about that experience is that being who I am continues to affect me 3 years after that night.

I felt broken by the experience and began to repress my bisexuality. I started identifying as a lesbian to reaffirm my relationship and my feelings. When the relationship ended, I realized that I never did stop being bisexual despite all the love and commitment I had felt for that person. 

I talked to a therapist about, among other things, my sexuality. It became a huge pillar to who I was. And if I didn’t know the answer to that, then maybe my feelings were invalid. Maybe I was a slut. And maybe, all the negative thoughts and feelings I had were right. 

While flying to Washington D.C., I was looking out the window thinking about that, trying desperately not to burst into tears. My gay angst knew no bounds as I listened to Let it Go. Once again, a song saved me. It became unnecessary to be so hard on myself. So maybe I was a lesbian! IT DIDN’T MATTER, I’D STILL BE CLARA FIRST. So maybe I was bisexual! STILL CLARA! Sitting in the plane, thinking about the distance from the negative people in my life and my problems, I realized I had myself in the end and I would love other people in my life. 

Their sex identity didn’t matter to me, because I knew that I’d always fall like I did for that boy. I’d chase like a stray puppy and get bored like a house cat when I had them. And soulmate or not, I had myself.

Figuring out your sexuality is very difficult and for many, it will never be an answer set in stone. You will always be moving side to side, up and down, on and off that spectrum. Your sexual identity is empowering when you realize that what you bring to it is what matters! People will question you if you reinforce or thwart your identity’s stereotypes. 

You’re a lesbian? Oh, my god; you’re so pretty though. 

You’re gay, aren’t you? Why do you act so feminine? Being gay doesn’t mean you have to act gay.

(Sidebar: What the hell does that mean anyways? Are heterosexuals tracking our behavior patterns or something? Watching us in the wild? God knows how many times I hear: omg I can spot a gay right away! Like we’re wild animals getting flagged down by hetero-safari trips. If you are on this hetero-safari trip, get off)

 

Knowing your sexuality is amazing, but so is knowing that you’re a complex, unique individual.

You do you.

The rest will follow.

An Honest Analysis on Being A Manic Pixie Dream Girl, Foolishness, and Shielding Oneself

First things first, I am not your little plaything. I am not your manic pixie dream girl. So, when you reduce me to compliments such as “babes”, “quirky”, or “hermosa” you are denying my personhood. You are making me into a toy that you can manipulate whenever you see fit. You are placing unrealistic expectations that are far removed from my actual self. You are twisting me into something that is not me. I am not a single-synonym individual. There is more to me than just your synonym. I am a multi-faceted boss bitch that does not need you (or someone like you) to survive. I do not exist for you or your aesthetic. I solely exist for me.

This might sound harsh but I am beyond exhausted of only placing value on myself based upon the crappy perspective of someone else. You might lift me up and make me feel important, and I would like to believe in everything you say you believe in; but at what cost? Why do you only compliment me when it is convenient for you?

For that reason, I have decided that I do not wish to be important for you unless I decide to make myself an important person to you. Only after you have gone through this filter, are you allowed to prioritize me however it seems fair. Until then, I thank you for your kind words that feed my ego. Please prove yourself to be as kind as your words. But, maybe this time be more honest with me.

On the topic of honesty, let me be candid. The aforementioned paragraphs that attempt to depict me as a boss bitch will not totally protect me from acting like a fool. I am a fool. This does not change. Foolish women (or men) accept admiration and love of any kind because flattery will always satisfy our narcissistic souls.

Being desired and being loved is something that everyone regardless of venue aspires to have. One can meet this human desire through friendships or romance. Both sorts are hard to maintain. Relationships require effort, dedication, loyalty, genuineness, on each side of the equation in order for the partnership to be healthy. This is no secret. Although, a man (or woman) is only as good as their word, in my experience, people would rather fake trying than exerting effort. (Myself included.) So, when things inevitably do not work out, we become emotionally detached monsters that only give a damn because we are trying to win. Which is the strangest and most psychotic war we play with ourselves and those that have wronged us.

Any and every falling out that I have ever obsessed over, only caused that reaction because the other person had some kind of upper hand on me. I do not wish to be the weakest link. Being the vulnerable one has never pleased me. I would rather burn the bridge than let you know that you broke through my tough exterior. Which is dumb. Fighting fire with fire only causes a greater damage. No one wins with fighting. Actually, winning is such a stupid concept. The only way to win is to not play. But, not playing means that you do not care about winning. For that reason, winning gets no satisfaction or validation.

Shields protect us from showing our vulnerable side. We create shields to keep out the creeps. However, that does not mean that creeps will not slip in through our blind spots. Creeps (AKA poisonous people) are part of life. We ought to not act foolishly around them. Though that is not realistic. 

Shielding ourselves prevents us from trying while simultaneously protecting us from getting hurt. Releasing or putting our shields up is such a gamble. I am continuously learning how to filter my shields when it comes to my relationships.

I am not very good at shielding myself to friendship. Although I have wonderful and kind-hearted friends now, I did not at one point. I sometimes overlook genuine friendships while accepting inauthentic admiration.

I am very good at shielding myself to romance. Even though, that sounds nice, I am no one’s “babe”. As of now, no man has been proven themselves worthy of seeing my shields completely down in this aspect.

I do not know whether or not it is good to have my shields up or down. The filter varies on the individual. I will make mistakes. I might not. But, so far, these are the observations I have made throughout my youth. 

Also, please check out the themed playlist I made about these topics. The songs featured in this playlist are the songs I listen to in recent months and are very important to me when it comes to encapsulating how I have been feeling. 

<3

- Vianey

Vianey is a twenty year old self-identified ranter who can be easily wooed by funny three-dimensional TV characters. When she is not watching sitcoms, bugging her pets, or dancing sporadically she posts every now and then on Kaleidehscope.