Butterfly Cauldron

Seventeen and strung out on confusion. . .

I've found out what it takes to be a man
And mom and dad will never understand
What's happening to me.

-- Green Day, Coming Clean

In my listing of bisexual celebs, I somehow missed Billie Joe Armstrong. And I don't know how, since 1.) he sings for my favorite band and 2.) he's gorgeous and I.Want.Him. He wrote Coming Clean about realizing he was bisexual, which is pretty apparent to anyone whose gone through it and heard the song. So, add him to the (woefully short) list of publically out bisexual celebs.

So, I'm thinking about sex. Again. I find I do that far, far more than I'm supposed to. Because, ya know, we womens. We never thing about Teh Sex. But more specifically, I'm thinking about sex in context of relationships.

In my perfect world, I'm a happy little slut. No shame, no hangups, no problem finding lovers. A guy or girl catches my eye? I saunter up, flirt a bit, pass out the digits and suggest we go somewhere more private. The sex is always good, the orgasms always intense, the afterglow always beamy. Nice world, huh?

In reality, of course, it is far from a perfect world. I'm got more hangups than there is blog-space to blog about 'em. Shame? Well....I think I'm actually over the shame part. (Yippee!! Score one for therapy. Now, to tackle the 1,999,999,999,999,999 more. . .)And finding lovers? Ha. Yeah. As I said, I'm taking applications, but. . .no takers.

And sex is not always good, is it? Physically, I mean. We all know, emotionally there are more hidden mines than you can imagine. But, you'd think, physically at least, there should be some kind of guaranteed payoff. Orgasm should be a given and they should come easy. I mean, I can make myself cum in 45 seconds, why can't everyone else? (Yeah, I admit. I timed it once. So sue me.)(And granted, it's not /always/ that fast. But come on, what woman can't make herself cum in three minutes or less?) (Or, uh, am I a freak that way?)So, anyway, the lack of guaranteed orgasm or skilled partner is why I'm not a one-night stand kinda girl. I mean, if I'm getting undressed and naked, I want the Happy, ya know?

In a relationship, it's different. Sure, maybe it's not good today. Maybe it's just okay. Maybe you'd really rather just turn over and go back to sleep. But you don't, usually, because you're in a relationship and you care about your partner. And you know that it will be good again, next time. Or later on you can take your time. Or you can agree to try out what you want in the future. There are payoffs, dividends, lots of Happy Happy Joy Joy.

So I'm faced with this problem -- I don't do one-nighters and I'm not in a relationship. And, being human, I'm needing more contact than with my trusty Rabbit. I need the weight of another person, the sound of someone else breathing in the night. Picking up the phone to call someone in the middle of the day to see if they can pick up Chinese food on their way home from work. Someone to share a bottle of wine with, to take vacations with, to do the damned laundry with. I need the physical presense of someone else in my life.

This need is becoming more intense lately. It makes a certain amount of sense, really. I've spent the last six years doing a lot of work on myself, a lot of putting things in order, dealing with some issues that doomed my last relationship. Being a good partner just wasn't possible for me before. I was too depressed, too sick, too impatient and needy. I was too in need of being the center, of having someone to support me and too unwilling to embrace a partner's quirks without judgement. I don't think there's any shame in admitting I would have been a very bad girlfriend. It's just a process of evolution. I know I would have been toxic, and so I didn't date anyone. I didn't draw anyone into my mess, because I knew I had to fix it.

So now, now that I've got my health under control and I've got my career on a stable, non-stressful path. Now that I've wrestled with those issues that kept me slightly ashamed -- of myself and of my partner, no matter how great they really were -- I find myself growing increasingly in need of someone. Not just anyone, of course. I'm certainly not desparate.

I think I have this great life to share. Sure, it's good living it myself, but it would be better if I had someone to go on with me. I've gotten to the point in my life where I can see my strong points and my weaknesses and not hate myself for either. And I think I can do the same for a partner, should I find one.

I used to think, if I fell in love with a woman, it would be near impossible to be open with my family about it. And, truthfully, I'd still be hesitant. But it's not something that truly terrifies me anymore. The fear comes from the thought of losing them. And I fear that, not just because I deeply love them and count on their support, but because losing them would leave me alone. And, until now, I haven't felt that I could truly, honestly survive on my own. I haven't felt, well, like an adult. It felt like I was still stuck in college-kid mode. But now it's different. I had a goal - find a new job that has promotion potential, that allows me to save for retirment, that will let me pay off my student loans. And I found it. On my own, with no help from my family. Did it, embraced it and gods help me, and totally in love with it.

I used to feel that, if my family couldn't love me enough to accept me in all my shades of being, there must be something wrong with me. I spent so very much of my life thinking their must be something very wrong with me, for any number of reasons. Too fat, too weird, too queer, too goth, too depressed, too smart, too angry, whatever. And now, it occurs to me, that there's nothing wrong with me. That if they can't accept me, they're the ones with the problem. And eventually, I think they'd come around. My mother, at least. My dad? Gods, I think it would break my dad's heart and I can't stand that thought. Who knows what my brother and sister-in-law would do. It's a scary thought, my terribly Baptist family finding out. They'd think that I betrayed them somehow, when the truth is they'd be the ones doing the betraying.

Part of me is angry that I even have to consider this. Should I fall in love with a woman, I have to weigh the pros and cons -- to tell the family or not to tell the family, to risk that lose or not. Falling in love shouldn't break your heart and it shouldn't have to be a secret.

Labels: bisexuality, family