Thought I’d start this ‘blog’ (if blog it is…?) as a dialogue with myself- therapy, if you like… a way to sort out my own head.
At the ripe old age of (*cough*) er.. 40, I have no more idea as to what it’s all about than I did at 15. Anyone else know? The name of this blog came about as I was thinking about who the hell ‘I’ am. As a child all I remember is wanting to be a boy- I made my mum cut my hair and call me ‘John’. (I’m the small, chubby one…*g*)
She wouldn’t do it really short how I wanted it (it *was* the 70’s, ya know!) but compromised on a dodgy basin-cut *sigh*. My first crushes were on men who turned out to be gay… and some girls… and then some more men… and then some women…*g*. My two best friends as a young teen were a rather flamboyant gay bloke a year my senior, and a girl my age who I had the hugest crush on (shhhhh… don’t tell…) but who seemed so manifestly heterosexual that I was both crushed and secretly jealous of everyone she liked. I was waaaaaaaay too shy to make any kind of moves on *anyone* at this stage in my life, and went out with any guy who seemed nice and who seemed to like me. Sap… and they were very nice- luckily, but I had no self-esteem to speak of.
Skip forward some years and a lot of drama which I may get round to speaking of later, and in my early 20s I came out to my parents as Bisexual. Now this doesn’t sound like any kind of a big deal nowadays, but at the time I was pretty suicidal about the whole thing. They ‘knew’ I wasn’t gay- having seen at fairly close quarters my relationships with (and crushes on..) men, and I knew my mum was fairly cool with *men* being gay- but I felt she was less keen on the idea of women doing that gay shit… but in the event they were lovely about it- but it made me all self-conscious, like I was supposed to rush out and get a girlfriend, when I was manifestly dreadful at the whole pick-up thing…;-) Anyway, to cut a long story a bit shorter before your ears drop off and your brain falls out, I had some more relationships- mainly with men, as it just seemed to keep happening, while the women I fancied seemed to be generally unavailable/ straight/ barking mad/ 1000’s of miles away- and eventually happened across one bloke that I liked enough to marry and have kids with. I *never* thought I’d get married, but this one was such a gem I felt it was a tribute to his loveliness to go the extra mile and make a commitment. Needless to say, we didn’t have a traditional wedding, but a bonkers spur-of-the-moment do, but it’s lasted 15 years so far and he’s definitely my best friend and soul-mate, and I adore my kids, but I need to reclaim myself a bit now, before I get consumed by the quagmire of wife-and-mum-dom. For over 30 years of my life I’ve been a tomboy. I’ve frequently toyed with the idea of being a FTM transsexual (before I knew such a thing even existed)- indeed, it’s a thought constantly lurking in one part of my brain- but, all in all, it wasn’t quite right for me. I *would* rather have been born a man, but don’t think I would make a good one in this body- and IMO it would always be a compromise. In the same way that I would much rather be taller, I’ve learned to accept it as one of those things, and a good reason to hope for re-incarnation.. 😉 The ‘Non-Tomboy- Years’ were my childbearing years- now 5 years behind me. This is a bit of a generalisation however, as- although I felt more feminine than at any other point in my life- looking back it was a feeling that came and went. But, I can truthfully say that I fully embraced pregnancy and breastfeeding- despite appalling morning (afternoon/ evening) sickness, and actually liked my female body for the first time ever. I suppose it was to do with using it for something practical that men couldn’t do, and being so appreciated by my babies. AND, I actually had visible tits for the first time in my life!! :-O I quite like being flat-chested generally, and it would be even better if I didn’t have damn hips, but it was certainly a novelty, and quite nice for the OH, poor chap… and even the damn hips came in useful during sprogging, so that was something else…
Anyway, tits AND surplus estrogen gone now, along with most of my hair (shaved it off again- didn’t just go bald, thankfully!) and once again looking like a stereotypical Lesbian/ small boy rather than an Earth Mother, as is my wont- the funny thing is though, is that most people where I live now only know me as the Earth Mother type, and now I reckon they’re expecting me to come out and dump the OH for a girlfriend, or something… and I do definitely feel a lot gayer than I have in a while.. 😉 But love the OH too much not to be monogamous, so does that make me straight? As far as I’m concerned, I’m still Bi/ Pansexual, (*this* tag wasn’t around when I came out, but pretty sure it more accurately describes my sexual preference…) but off the market. There are definitely *far* more women about that I fancy (at a distance, mind 😉 ) than men, and the OH’s pretty liberal in his sexual tastes himself, and seems to like the androgynous look anyway, so whatever… My eldest daughter (now a teen) thinks I’m cool- and reckons she’s Bi too- so that’s fine by me, and I’m very flattered that she’s not totally ashamed to be seen with me tbh! and now I need to fall asleep…. night night folks, and that concludes my first ramble…Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz