Kinsey Scale Rating: 2

Confession # I-have-lost-count-and-will-probably-not-continue-counting-them-because-laziness:



And, yes, I did like it.

Through all four years of high school, and a tiny bit of college, there was always a sort-of question mark hanging over my sexuality.  I probably made a much bigger deal out of it than was necessary, but at the time, I guess I thought it was sexy to be tortured and distraught over your identity, and who you were into was sort of a trending item at the time.  Why, yes, I was a shallow teenager.

Anyway, I always knew for certain that I was not gay.  Boys made my heart race too much for that.  But I always wondered if I fell into a grey zone.  Around 15, I started wondering if I was potentially bisexual.  It started out as a joke, which, yes, I recognize was completely juvenile.  To think of sexuality as either a joke or a choice is terrible, but I was a terrible and immature teenager with no one to tell me otherwise.  But I laughed and said it as I chased female friends and swung them around in the air without giving it a second thought.  I didn't really seriously consider it until people actually started using the joke on me in turn.

"God, you're so bi."

Haha...hah.  Was I?  I had never been interested in dating girls, and while I found some of them beyond platonically pretty, it never went beyond that.  I had a couple of friends who were bisexual, and they seemed to be having a fine time of it.  And I got on well with girls.  Should I consider it the possibility?

That train of thought ended rather quickly, though, when a then-boyfriend's lower lip quivered just before he accused me of wanting to cheat on him.  If I was bi, then it meant that there was a girl that I wanted to date behind his back.  We were kids.  Our logic was dumb.  The long and short of it is, to appease him, I insisted that it was just a stupid joke and that I was 100% straight.  I stopped thinking about it.

For awhile, I thought maybe I was asexual, though in hindsight, this was probably a fox-and-the-sour-grapes kind of thing.  I wasn't getting much attention/action, so I figured it was because I didn't want it.  On top of that, when I did get it, I would find some novelty in it for awhile, and then suddenly get confused and terrified by it.  That part, I think, was a guilt thing, which I eventually got over with time and a great deal of patience with some very understanding boyfriends.

So I largely stopped thinking about it until a year or two after I graduated college.  Newly single, out of a mixture of loneliness and curiosity, I let the question start to resurface.  I talked it over with a gay friend who had been closeted most of their life.  Their unequivocal advice was take the chance to explore it.  So... I did.

I remember the first time I kissed a girl.  It was actually just before leaving school, and it was fueled more by alcohol and a desire to grab the attention of a cute friend than any real attraction. It was actually pretty boring, as far as first kisses go, but it still left me a touch giddy.

The second time, on the other hand, should have a movie written about it.

"Hey... can I kiss you?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

Man, woman, or otherwise, it was the most aggressive first kiss with a new partner I'd ever experienced.  And I don't mean she bit my face or anything.  She was just very... assertive, thus disproving any ideas that I had ever had or ever would have about women being passive kiss receptors.

Guess what.  It was amazing.  Just as it should have been.  Because I was kissing someone that I cared about and was really quite attracted to.  And that's how it works for me.

So.  I mean, sure.  I guess I'm bisexual.  I find both men and women attractive, though I admittedly have a stronger preference for men.  Sliding scale, if you will.  Will I ever kiss a woman again?  Maybe, but not likely, just like I'll probably never kiss another man who isn't DG because committed relationship.  So then why am I even mentioning it?  Well, because it's only the 16th day of B.E.D.I.S., and I'm already running out of things to talk about, and because I guess I finally felt like bringing it up.

Thanks for reading.

Until the next.