What if?

I have this post percolating, but I'm not sure how to title it, and I hate that.  I find that the title comes to me first and usually helps provide me a unifying theme - keeps me on track once I start typing so that I am semi-cohesive... But the title isn't coming to me at the moment.  You, the reader, already know if I came up with something brilliant.  Well. No, you don't because you haven't read the post yet, only my verbal throat-clearing. 

As I wrote earlier, I firmly believe that sexuality is a spectrum, and that few of us are 100% in one direction or the other.  And because God has a sense of humor, I have learned long ago to be very careful in speaking about absolutes.  He likes to say, "Oh really?" So I don't tempt him. Because temptation is bad. ;)

As such - avoiding absolutes - I can't tell you that I'm 100% lesbian.  But I am amused that for several friends the thought of me with a man makes them laugh out loud. Literally.  So, I'm probably pretty close to the end of the spectrum, but I don't rule anything out absolutely.  (See above). 

The "political" problem about admitting the spectrum, is that it makes that old saying / question "But you just haven't met the right man..." in theory accurate.  No.  I haven't met the right man.  But I don't know if the right man is even out there, or if I'll ever meet him, or why I would have to wait for him anyway.  One day, though, I don't discount the remote possibility that there could be a man I might want to share my body with.  I have no doubt there is a man out there I might want to share my life with - but my body is a whole different affair. 

One of the reasons I leave myself open and am fairly comfortable with the idea of bisexuality is my experience with my second serious relationship.  She was unashamedly bisexual.  No question.  Although I think even the term bisexual wasn't adequate.  She described it to me essentially that making love to a person was just a natural extension of her affection for a person.  And that makes sense.  A lot of sense.  And she loved a lot of people.  :)

A good friend of mine from college was a lesbian when I met her.  Or so she thought.  I don't know if she was die-hard or not, but she actually had girlfriends in high school which was more than I had done.  So, her lesbianism had been well established. 

Until that summer that she lived with a guy.  Frankly I don't remember my reaction to that, and a part of me, today, wishes I could.  Probably because (ideally) I didn't really have much of a reaction at all.  She was happy, she was enjoying his company, and as she has admitted to me now, she was quite happy given all the shagging they were doing (to put it politely).  Good for her. 

And even as I type this now, I wonder why I should have an opinion on the matter.  Why who she sleeps with should matter to me?  I mean when we (later) slept together, she certainly knew what she was doing, so.... ;) really isn't that all that should matter to me?

I can't say I thought much either way about her sexuality.  I knew her as a lesbian, but I don't think I felt any need to give her a label or re-label her.  She was just my friend.  (Technically, still is, I should watch those verb tenses!)

Several years out of college she met and married a guy.  So?  Exactly. So.  And about fifteen years later, she got a serious crush and fell in love with another woman.  By this time, it was clear that her husband was an ass and that she wasn't particularly attracted to him, and didn't desire him any more.  I was absent during many of those fifteen years, so I can't speak much about their marriage and how it went over that time. 

But she found herself in a conundrum.  In love / lust with a woman and most definitely NOT attracted to a man she'd spent a significant portion of her life with.  What was she? Who was she?  Was she just a lesbian after all?

She was clearly growing and changing, and her husband was not growing and changing in the same ways, and so she finally made the difficult decision to separate.  And then go to hours and hours of therapy to accept her lesbianism.

God does have a sense of humor.  He really does laugh. 

The girl she fell in love with was a fickle girl.  So, it wasn't as if she ran from his arms into hers, and lived happily ever after.  Sadly, no.  She left him, and now, suddenly available, the woman she was interested in went screaming in the other direction.  Ain't that the way it goes? But she knew / realized / understood that the separation from her husband WAS separate from her feelings for this woman, and even though this woman did not remain available, she did not want to return to her marriage. 

So she spent several months wondering what the f* was wrong with her? 

Last night, I re-read an old post here from during some of this dark time for her.  And I admit it broke my heart all over again remembering this.  It may be part of why this post is percolating. 

Just when she started to accept, maybe I really am just a lesbian, she fell in lust with a guy.  And had great mind blowing (yes, I'm jealous) sex with him.  Over, and over, and over again.  She might even be still having it right this moment as I'm typing this post (and I laugh because she might just tell me she was for spite! *smile*).  She's still slept with other women, but she's found a man whose company she really enjoys, and whose body she really enjoys. 

Despite my jealousy over the mind blowing sex, I am happy for her. 

But boy did that throw her into a whole other tizzy about "What am I? Who am I?"  Poor girl.  (Don't feel THAT sorry for her, did I mention she gets to keep having mind blowing sex?)

There have been a number of women - often married - who have given me their #wineparty confessions of kissing a girl, or exposing themselves to another woman, and how much they enjoyed it.  Some of them wonder if they might want more... I'm a good listener.  And I think for many, they may never feel a real pull to have sex with a woman, but their x% of their sexuality that isn't straight recognizes that we are just humans. 

All of that, really, is actually an introduction to the topic that was really bouncing around my head this morning.  What would it be like, now, having loved women passionately all my life to suddenly develop sexual hormonal feelings for a guy?  I've kissed guys before.  As in before I realized I was a lesbian.  And let's face it, when your eyes are closed, you have no idea what gender you are kissing.  Well, unless there is stubbly beard or ticklish mustache, but my kisses with boys were all pre-pubescent prior to facial hair. 

There's a guy at work who teases me that I am on his bucket list. 

And I enjoy flirting with him and teasing him much as I do many of the women I flirt with.  Flirting is fun.

But there is no desire or interest to do anything more with him - which I can't say the same about the some of the women I flirt with. 

But what would it be like to wake up one morning with raging hormonal feelings for a man?  What would it be like to have these feelings for someone whom I never expected I would?  How would that feel?  How confusing would it be? What insecurities would surface? 

Would I go online and research videos on how to give a blowjob? (They're out there - I know!  There is a LOT of advice online about how to give a blowjob!)  Would I worry that his interest in me was only for the challenge? (The bucket list).  Would I question my whole existence as a lesbian before that?  Wonder if I was really stupid and hadn't given men a fair chance like my father asked me when I came out in high school? 

I mean I can admit I thought "Wow" when I saw Brad Pitt on the big screen with Geena Davis in Thelma & Louise.  And, yeah, if that young cocky cute boy had wanted to have a go with me in bed after I saw it, I might have decided to give it a whirl (Those abs, that smile, his hair falling in his eyes...)

Would I then look back at all those experiences and wonder if maybe they were telling me I was straight after all?

The good news is I'm experienced enough to know that it doesn't have to be a dichotomy - either one or the other.  I understand bisexuality exists.  I acknowledge its potential. 

But still? People laugh at the idea of me with a man.  In fact, the bright burning bush fire from God that my ex was losing it was that she accused me of having an affair with a man.  Wha-a-a? Okay.  Now I know that she's the one who is crazy, not me.  And God bless my friends who laughed at that.  What would my parents say if I brought home a boy?  My exes? My church? What would people think if I had the hots for a man? Fell in lust with a guy?

I admit, the description my friend gave me of the boy she's having mind blowing sex with sounds appealing.  She describes him as a lesbian trapped in a man's body - that apparently he actually knows what to do in bed to please a woman as opposed to (I'm assuming) most other men (she's been with).  Okay, maybe I could have sex with a lesbian man... ?

I don't know. 

For one woman I've been with, I was her first, and to the best of my knowledge so far, her only.  And I waited, after we first made love, for her to freak out.  She was 40 and just had sex with a woman for the first time.  She was a natural, by the way.  And it never happened.  Later, she started questioning her identity overall... but she knew that she wasn't straight.  Frankly, I never felt the need for her to define anything more.  She loved me, it didn't really matter, otherwise.  But I was amazed that she never freaked out about having just had sex with a woman.  I kept waiting for it.. gently probing to make sure she was okay and, well, she was.  Wow!

I don't know if I would handle it so gracefully.  Although, I guess if there was a guy that was special enough for me to consider sharing myself with him that way, well, then... I guess / hope that it would just make sense.  Just be what was natural, and like my former lover, not be so shocking. 

I don't know. 

But it was what I was thinking about, randomly, this morning.  And thought I'd share with you.