Broad shoulders, deep voices, and whiskers on jawlines, these are a few of my favorite things ::sings:: I love how easily men can be distracted and stimulated. I love awkward advances from men who are certain that they are about to be rejected. I could write a lovely lewd ode to the wonders of male genitalia. I love men, this was never uncertain. However, CD's are adorable. I have always found them brave and earnest in their gender expressions. Put me in a room full of men and I will find the gender variant one the most attractive. It is my six sense. He will be manly, charismatic, and a secret gender outlaw. This affinity and apparent attraction has caused me some confusion. So what am I?
My CDing husband confided in me that he felt he needed to live as a women three years into our marriage. Perhaps I will recount the happenings of trying months that lead up to his revelation but today I would like to share what happened to me when I supported his journey and stayed at his side while our colleagues, friends, and family watched with shock and awe as he transformed. I, a self identified lover of men, suddenly was a lesbian.
Many of my personal heroines are feminist, brash, lady-loving women. I am drawn to tough jobs, military, law enforcement, mining, etc. that call for tough women who are, at a higher rate than the general population, stereotypically, lesbians (or bi-sexual). I had been always proud to be counted in the ranks with my LGBT friends.
I was struck by the positive and negative attention my new status gained me. Acquaintances came out to me assuring me I wasn't the only lesbian in the joint. Others emphatically announced they had lesbian relatives in hopes of making me feel at ease. My father confided that he knew all along that I was one. Some suddenly avoided me as if it was rumored I carried a dreadful antibiotic resistant disease. I was hit on by women (which had happened in the past but not with such frequency or gusto).
I became angry. I wanted to shout I am not a lesbian! In denying the label I was perceived as homophobic, sadly confused, or, in the truest sense, a deviant. If there is a term for a women who enjoys sex and romance with a CD surely it would have almost fit. Right? It was not I who was confused but the public. If I insisted my husband was a women and I loved her I would have to love a women. No one can tell me who I am oriented towards; but they sure tried. I was miserable. My husband laughed off the attention. She took some pleasure from the befuddled looks, answered the personal questions with ease. She took no offense from the mislabels or confusion. Yes, saint like, I know.
I had an identity crisis. I shaved my head. I questioned my motives and inspected myself for signs of hatred. I looked long and hard at definitions of seemingly simple terms like Women or Homosexual. If I had sex with a women once would I forever be a Bisexual? How about if I found the female form attractive and sexual? but what if I disliked sex with a women? What if I found that you could enjoy the touch of a women but could never bring myself to return the that pleasure? No I think one must love women and enjoy sex with women to be a Homosexual women.
I was not homosexual by my own definition. Why still did being assumed so bother me? So what if the world has got it all wrong? Should I really be bent on setting each and everyone straight? They are wrong. It is very hard to be labeled something you are not even when that label is not negative. Like being called George instead of Jorge, or being (God forgive!) Sir-ed instead of Ma'am-ed, or being mistaken for Mexican when you are Hawaiian. They are just plain wrong.
When my husband came out I felt I entered a closet. I am a dick loving Heterosexual. It is easier let the world think I am a normal lesbian. It is not fair. My husband is back in the closet, and I am out as a Hetero women again. It is good for me. Bad for him, I think. Perhaps he is more resilient than I am. Perhaps I am just cruel for not being more flexible and understanding. I do know that having gone through the coming out with her once. I will not do it again for so many reasons.
My CDing husband confided in me that he felt he needed to live as a women three years into our marriage. Perhaps I will recount the happenings of trying months that lead up to his revelation but today I would like to share what happened to me when I supported his journey and stayed at his side while our colleagues, friends, and family watched with shock and awe as he transformed. I, a self identified lover of men, suddenly was a lesbian.
Many of my personal heroines are feminist, brash, lady-loving women. I am drawn to tough jobs, military, law enforcement, mining, etc. that call for tough women who are, at a higher rate than the general population, stereotypically, lesbians (or bi-sexual). I had been always proud to be counted in the ranks with my LGBT friends.
I was struck by the positive and negative attention my new status gained me. Acquaintances came out to me assuring me I wasn't the only lesbian in the joint. Others emphatically announced they had lesbian relatives in hopes of making me feel at ease. My father confided that he knew all along that I was one. Some suddenly avoided me as if it was rumored I carried a dreadful antibiotic resistant disease. I was hit on by women (which had happened in the past but not with such frequency or gusto).
I became angry. I wanted to shout I am not a lesbian! In denying the label I was perceived as homophobic, sadly confused, or, in the truest sense, a deviant. If there is a term for a women who enjoys sex and romance with a CD surely it would have almost fit. Right? It was not I who was confused but the public. If I insisted my husband was a women and I loved her I would have to love a women. No one can tell me who I am oriented towards; but they sure tried. I was miserable. My husband laughed off the attention. She took some pleasure from the befuddled looks, answered the personal questions with ease. She took no offense from the mislabels or confusion. Yes, saint like, I know.
I had an identity crisis. I shaved my head. I questioned my motives and inspected myself for signs of hatred. I looked long and hard at definitions of seemingly simple terms like Women or Homosexual. If I had sex with a women once would I forever be a Bisexual? How about if I found the female form attractive and sexual? but what if I disliked sex with a women? What if I found that you could enjoy the touch of a women but could never bring myself to return the that pleasure? No I think one must love women and enjoy sex with women to be a Homosexual women.
I was not homosexual by my own definition. Why still did being assumed so bother me? So what if the world has got it all wrong? Should I really be bent on setting each and everyone straight? They are wrong. It is very hard to be labeled something you are not even when that label is not negative. Like being called George instead of Jorge, or being (God forgive!) Sir-ed instead of Ma'am-ed, or being mistaken for Mexican when you are Hawaiian. They are just plain wrong.
When my husband came out I felt I entered a closet. I am a dick loving Heterosexual. It is easier let the world think I am a normal lesbian. It is not fair. My husband is back in the closet, and I am out as a Hetero women again. It is good for me. Bad for him, I think. Perhaps he is more resilient than I am. Perhaps I am just cruel for not being more flexible and understanding. I do know that having gone through the coming out with her once. I will not do it again for so many reasons.
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