I’m what they call a “late-to-life” lesbian. I spent a painful lifetime in the closet despite knowing from a very young age that was I was different. My family was deeply homophobic which only pushed me more into the closet.
I had many sexual encounters with men that have left me pretty traumatized. Something I’m still unpacking and healing from in therapy. My first relationship out of the closet was with a woman who said she was non-binary. They didn’t want me to call myself a lesbian because they didn’t identify as a woman. I couldn’t use words that felt feminine, I couldn’t buy them flowers because it made them feel like a woman. I couldn’t touch them in certain ways because of their dysphoria. Anything female was off limits, gross, triggering, etc. When we had sex they wanted to picture anything I was doing as if I was doing it to a penis. They wanted to use words like suck. They wanted to use a strap that was extremely realistic and large. I set my boundaries. Explaining these things were scary and wrong for me. My boundaries were always pushed but if I ever pushed again one of theirs— all hell would break loose. They hurt me with physically and emotionally with that thing. I cried. It didn’t matter. Luckily that person is gone from my life and I’m finally in the relationship I always knew I was supposed to have. One with a woman, proud of her body and mine. Loving, respectful. A lesbian relationship. I never thought I’d be here but I am and I’m so happy. The scars from that past relationship are still there and I’m floating out in the world with no lesbian community because it barely exists where I am. Spaces meant for lesbians are “inclusive” of all. Lesbian is a dirty bad word. Our clubs are gone- rebranded as queer. It feels really lonely. I hope I find you all out there somewhere. Comments are closed.
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