Coming to Terms : Part 1

It can be difficult to pin down something as complex as sexuality in just a single term. “Gay, bi, lesbian, pansexual, demisexual…” We are fluid beings (some of us more than others) and our labels may reflect that and change from time to time. This is Jenn’s story with labels…

“With every ounce of shame, guilt, and dependence on my former self that I shed, I am constantly bumping into newer versions of myself, and, consequently, the labels become easier to navigate.

When my coming out process first began in June of 2014, I was adamant about not wanting to be labeled, for I was certain it was not fair to compartmentalize my sexual orientation into one box or another. I was against “labeling,” because, and I say this retrospectively now, I was still struggling with coming out and revealing my truth. While in the throes of disclosing this recently raw, authentic self, naming my sexuality was the least of my problems.

A 60+ year old radical mentor of my ginger girlfriend claimed that it took her many years of clearly annunciating the word “lesbian” in a mirror before she became truly at ease with connecting her sexuality to that term. She knew she liked girls, but calling herself a lesbian was too daunting a task because of the legal, political, social, and emotional implications the term implied, particularly when she came out over forty years ago.

I came out at 38 years old while I was in a (dwindling) straight 13 year-long marriage, including two amazing daughters, an exceptionally hyper dog, a tabby kitty, and even a multi-colored Betta! So, you, my imagined reader, may correctly assume it is an understatement to say that people in my life were not only outraged and shocked at my reveal, but, instantly, they implored me to name my sexuality:

“Well, then, what are you?!”
“So, now you’re a lesbian? All of a sudden? Just like that?”
“Are you bi? You must be bi because you were married, right?”
“Are you straight but you just like to fool around with girls?”
“Wait. You’re gay? You’re not gay. You’re bi. Are you bi? Wait. What are you?”
“Tell me.”
“Tell me.”
“Tell me!!”

No.

To their probing I often replied, “No clue” or “I don’t know WHAT I am” as though I was considered a mere, filthy spec of some outrageous life form though not quite human at all.

Or, at times, when my mother or cousin or best friend asked what I “was,” I’d breathe deeply and simply respond, “Jenn.”

After being out for over a year now, the struggle to name my sexuality exists, though the debilitating anxiety I experience every time I am asked to put my love in a box and stamp some word on it has greatly lessened. I play around with terminology, though presently I prefer “dyke” (for its grunge, in your face-fuck you!, and, in my mind, relation to the “type” of women I’m into), “queer” (an umbrella term that’s a bit radical and covers all sexualities), “gay” (though this term has historically been used negatively and in connection with queer males), and, yes, sometimes “lesbian.”

The more sexually and emotionally secure I become, the clearer I am able to envision what term suits me best and what I feel comfortable with. I am beginning to recognize my ability to identify what feels right to me, and that recognition is exhilarating!”

~ Jenn

Thanks for guest blogging Jenn!

What terms do you the reader feel comfortable with? Are there any terms still make you want to run for the hills? What is it about them that makes you feel that way? What do you associate with that term and where did that association come from?

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outcoaching

40-something lesbian life coach, living in Brooklyn.

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