Can I See Some Identification?: A Guide for the Queer-Curious, Part One
Some things you just know. Chocolate over vanilla. Mountains over beaches. Winter over summer. Other things are less clear, or they’re prone to change and evolve over time. For many of us, sexual attraction fits in the second category. As children, society tells us that boys are attracted to girls and vice versa (we won’t even get into the problem with “boy” and “girl” being the only two gender identities we’re typically given in this post — also clearly a huge obstacle).
We might accept these “rules of attraction” at face value when we’re young only to get hit with a full spectrum of emotions down the road when we discover there are a whole slew of other options our parents and teachers never mentioned. If you’ve been considering lately that you might be something beyond heterosexual, read on. We’ve asked our friends to tell us about their first inclinations that they might be queer.
It’s Only a Crush?
My first experiences recognizing my sexual attraction to women came at a relatively early age but, like many young American children growing up with a relatively conservative childhood, it was a joke, nothing to be taken too seriously. In middle school, my female friends and I had “girl crushes.” They were called this because it was clearly a distinctly separate thing that was not really meant to be sexual like a crush on a boy would be. When I was in high school, I realized that I had slightly stronger “girl crushes” on female celebrities than my friends did (Jessica Alba was the first), but I still couldn’t recognize my attraction to women that I knew in real life. My middle/high school best friend and I were inseparable and experimented with each other. It took me at least a year after high school to recognize my attraction to women and to realize that I was likely in love with her at the time.
My earliest memories of being attracted to men were about trying to reject those feelings. I remember putting up psychic “energy shields” to prevent the “wrong” feelings from getting to them. They were like mental fly-swatters batting away all the dicks I imagined. I was much more accepting of my sexual feelings towards women, though my earliest masturbation sessions always ended with me desperately praying to God, asking that I not be damned for what I’d just done, because I’d gladly marry and support whatever lady I’d been imagining during climax. Can you tell I was raised a strict Southern Baptist?
We met in a neuropsychology college course. We became friends and roommates. She appreciated my research of cultural sensitivity. My panties dampened anytime she discussed her neurology research. When we both became single, there were so many moments leading up to the inevitable:
- She is touching the small of my back as we walk through a crowded concert, and all I am aware of is her.
- Her freckled cheeks and deep blue eyes are intoxicating as she discusses a social issue that emblazons her passion.
- Her music taste, from Chris Pureka to Damien Rice, creates a world in which heartbreakingly profound and fervent acoustic melodies are the theme music to our lives.
- She introduces me to Pablo Neruda poetry, and I yearn to be her “full woman, fleshly apple, hot moon.”
About Those Feels…
Any of the above sound familiar? If so, keep an eye out for future installments of this series, where we’ll discuss dealing with queer-curious feelings, as well as guidelines for (and more real world stories about) those first queer sexual experiences.
For some, sexual attraction is black and white. For others, it’s chocolate and vanilla swirl, a beach house with mountains nearby, and enjoying the chill of winter, the summer heat and everything in between.
Charlotte Sometimes is a writer, teacher, performer, and prominent member of the local sex positive community. She has been a fierce advocate for accurate and comprehensive sex education since her Catholic high school days and is excited to share her research and experience with you. Her favorite things include straight whiskey, spin the bottle, good books, feminist porn, and snuggling. Charlotte lives in Austin, TX with her partner and her partner’s partner, which is way less scandalous than it sounds.