At about 15, after various events in my life, I knew I was gay. I was a freshman in high school and had just lost my best friend, someone who I cared deeply for. I did not feel I could be a lesbian at this time. I hated that I could not control my feelings. I hated that I was going to be different and that my life would not be as easy as if I were straight. For a long time I was absolutely miserable and quite angry. I never told anyone, until recently, that my best friend and I were in some twisted sexual relationship. It was as if we were dating, as there was both the emotional connection and the physcal one. I thought about it all the time and would get defensive when someone would make a comment and did my very best to hide it.
The summer in between my freshman and sophomore year I went to North Carolina, still miserable but getting better. I met a boy there and was instantly in love with him. I don't know what this means for my identity, but I will tell you that at the time I was so relieved. It was just a phase! I actually did like boys. This then ignited the only two relationships I had during high school. I didn't care about these boys, the first one especially. Even at this time thoughts like "it's because you're a lesbian" would creep into my head. They bothered my every time. It was like my own brain was antagonizing me.
By the time I was a junior and senior in high school I was over it. I hardly thought about it and I was in heavy pursuit of some kind of action. And by this I mean I wanted to make out with some boys. By this time I had effectively mastered not thinking about things and pushing things out of my head. So this method of survival was in full effect. And therefore I was able to freely not think about my evident lesbianism, I was able to pursue my men. But the one thing I couldn't deny was no matter what, I just wasn't that into them.
By freshman year of college I was still in denial. Every time anything to do with being a lesbian or just lesbianism in general, got brought up I got really uncomfortable. I would get this feeling inside of me that let me know that no matter what I talked my brain into thinking, I was what I was. I went a little crazy first semester, got drunk, made out with a lot of boys. I did my very best to make out with as many boys as possible. If I enjoyed it then clearly I was straight and clearly if I was macking on anything with a penis, I could not be questioned as gay. I won't say that I didn't enjoy my time making out with strangers in clubs, but I will say that it was not sustainable or fulfulling. I liked it, but only in a drunken haze in a too loud atmosphere with too many people around.
Then in my first semester of my sophomore year of college, I ended up in a class focused on transgender studies. Obviously this class was centered around trans topics, but there was also a lot of discussion about identity and presentation. At this point I was already borderline with my presentation. This meaning that I was choosing to dress how I was comfortable while still maintaining a shred of femininity. This class caused me to look into myself and see what I really wanted, who I really was and how I was going to be really happy. By the end of the semester I had started to take walks with a friend and we would both discuss our questions about our sexuality. I can't really speak for her, but she helped me talk through things that I hadn't ever discussed with anyone. I told her about my potential lack of straightness, which turned into a definate lack of straightness. She helped to work through my identity and embrace it to some extent. By second semester we were really questioning things. We started to become active in our university's LGBTQA center and started to make friends within the community. As the semester went on we both became more comfortable, I became more androgynous and life was good. I was happy, finally. I am out to some people. My close friends, some other people I am not all that close to but happened to be there, and those who ask. These people exist both in New York City and in my hometown.
And now to get to the point of all of this. Am I really out? When people look at me they just assume I am gay. Which is true, but does that make me out? Does it count if I don't actually say it? I don't know. I wonder what people think when they first meet me. I wonder what my professors think on the first day of class. I wonder what people in the halls think when I walk by. I wonder what the people in my hometown think when I show up to a baseball game in my varsity jacket and shaved head. I wonder if I am really an out lesbian. And therefore, I feel only sort of out. Like out to some people and not to others. It's like I myself have told certain people, then the people I have told have told people and the cycle continues. So a lot of people probably know I am a lesbian, or they think they know. This is okay. I just don't know if it counts.
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