Yesterday, I posted something to another person's blog that was a bit racy. I know, you are thinking to yourself, "Sweet Leesa posting something racy. I don't believe it." Yeah, I know, life can be a bit unpredictable. Not to re-post my comment, but the blog-owner assumed I was bi. I am not.
I wrote about a kiss the other day, and when I was in college, I did have a bi experience. Perhaps I will write about it one day. The experience lasted 7 days – not cooped up in her dorm room all seven days. We had to go out for food (a joke). But I remember thinking about it, about her, about the whole experience.
And here is why we stopped seeing each other – I did not want to be bi (or a lesbian). Whatever the label would be. I had dreams of a small house, white-picket fences, baking cookies for my children, drying my hands on my apron, seeing my children playing in the backyard. At the time, and even still (some would argue), lesbians don't get to live out their dreams. Not if they involve family. [I am not saying it fair; just an observation.]
And at the time, lesbians had to wear comfortable shoes, had really bad style. It was out-of-favor. It wasn't for another 5 years that being a lesbian (or bi) became cool. You still couldn’t do the normal things unless you had piles of money (and I am fairly sure I couldn't have been Ellen DeGeneres' partner (humor is such a turn-on). Just not in her league – and she has the cash to adopt the children, buy the acceptance.
Plus there was the thought "what would I tell my parents." Oh how they would have freaked out. I really enjoyed the lovemaking – especially the closeness and kissing. But after the joy, I could see so many problems with doing the lesbian thing. And being bi – not sure my Church would have been thrilled over that as well. Hard to be faithful with one person when you want to bed both men and women.
Women seem to be more practical than men – how many times have they married the man who had earning power instead of the one that made their heart skip each time he glances at you. And practically speaking, I chose to be "straight." I am sexual, and I think sexual beings have a tendency to expand their normal sexual roles, rules, experiences.
But let's forget the comfortable shoes.
Indifference is the Opposite of Love
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