Such pressure, this first post. It’s like my anonymous mission statement to the world. Not that anyone’s reading, but – you never know… sometimes the things you do in private (you know, in private on the internet) all of a sudden take a public turn in a snap.
So, here’s the scoop: Hi, I’m Laura and I’m gay. Well, mostly. Okay – all gay, but it’s not like that’s how most people know me. A few friends know, but mostly I’m still hangin’ out in the closet. Same old story… I’ve known on some level or another since high school, but only my late 30’s has turned me brave enough to want to do something about it. And part of doing something about it is deciding to talk about it here — I may or may not have an audience, but whether I do or not I’ve still got something to say. Something – as the blog title implies – to spew.
By nature, I play life pretty close to the vest. I’ve got some great friends, friends that would listen to me talk all day long about what’s bothering me, but I find myself shying away from relying on them like that (and yes – you’re right – that’s not fair to them). But one thing that’s always come naturally to me is pouring words onto (virtual) paper, figuring out the chaos in my brain by making it at least slightly coherent on the screen. So, here I am, using this as a substitute for real, live conversation. Healthy, I know.
The decision to finally own up to my own sexuality took not only a lot of years, but a leap of faith. Faith that this was the right thing to do, that this really is the person I’m supposed to be. And along the way, I’ve found myself questioning my feelings, my thoughts, wondering whether I’m just looking for an excuse for not having managed to keep a long term relationship going. Maybe I’m just broken. For no apparent reason. Maybe it’s not that I was dating boys, but rather I’m messed up enough that no romantic connection would ever work.
But – deep down – I’m pretty sure I’m right about this.
I’ve spent a lot of time and energy doing my best to convince my pea-brain that I was straight. Actually, it wasn’t all that difficult. I mean, while I wasn’t a nun, I wasn’t really out dating all that much. And so – it was always easy to blame it on my choice of men. Too nice. Too soft. Too boorish. Too much of a pushover. Too man? Perhaps that’s the phrase that I should have been looking for? All I know, is that with the exception of one guy, I was always trying to force myself to feel something — and all that really happened was that I treated some guys like crap to drive them away so I wouldn’t have to deal with the fact that I didn’t like them the way I was supposed to.
And so, I hopped from short relationship to short relationship, never letting anyone get too close because I knew that it wouldn’t end up working. And meanwhile, I’d become friends with girls and feel the desire to be with them all the time. Not even in a sexual sense, usually (though – sometimes…), but more of a wanting to spend my life with them. Wanting to be the one that they depended on. Be their best friend. That was the way I framed it — seemed fairly safe, you know? I didn’t want to sleep with them, I just wanted to be with them every minute. Because that was more “normal” for a straight girl. Um, sure.
And so begins my story. Give me a blank page and I can write forever… but this is enough for now. More to come – more history – more feelings – more questions – more doubts – more experiences. I intend on putting myself completely out here, if for no other reason than to satiate my own ego and maybe work out a few things in the process.
So, welcome. Sit down. Stay awhile.