Regrets & Drunken emails

I'm getting used to feeling at home in my new skin. Admittedly my new skin hasn't tested out the theory and put it in to practice, but I am making great inroads into finding the path I'd like to rum down.

I have joined a Women's group who meet regularly on Wednesdays. I go to a fortnightly quiz for women. I have been to a women only disco. The women from the Wednesday group all rallied and looked after me. I think they could see how worried I was and a need to nurture was triggered. I've meet some really great people.

On my journey I thought I could take people from my existing world. There are some people I have trusted and confided in. I still haven't spoken to my sons, but that time will come. I have however disclosed to a girl at work, and over the Christmas period I foolishly sent an email too two of the people I go to college with.

I'd spent the day at college chatting to two members of the cohort, one of which asked me if I'd write a reflective piece about the seasons and how I am affected by them. I was happy to do this as I'd spent time working on a seasons diary.  The thing is I was rather relaxed about when I wrote it. I was sitting at home on a Sunday evening. I'd had something to eat and a bottle of wine. It was possibly the wine which made my tongue a little loose and my fingers tap words out on the keyboard that I wouldn't have ordinarily typed.

In my email I wrote about the seasons, I also tagged on a few sentences at the end to say.............. I was experiencing some changes in my world. I had started going to a women's group because I wanted to meet women I shared feelings with. I said that I wasn't ready to talk about this openly as yet and asked that they respect this not share it with the rest of the group. I also tagged another recipient on to the email, because I respected her, she took a matriarchal position within college and I felt she would have taken it badly had I not said anything to her and 'came out' to everyone else.

The email wasn't mentioned for a month or so and I'd almost forgotten writing it. Then I was in a class with the chap I had written about the season for. We talked for a while and all was well. He was very open and chatted about women he knew that had 'come out' and were living openly.

I found it difficult to have full conversations at college. I'd get into talking about something I'd watched or experienced and I'd find I was censoring myself. There would be stupid situations where I would start a conversations but not be able to finish them in case I'd be required to fill in more background information than I was comfortable with. I wanted once to talk about a quiz question but I couldn't encase someone had asked me what kind of quiz it was. This lead me to thinking maybe I could talk to more of the cohort.

I next came out to a fellow member of the cohort who I had a very different reaction from. She didn't have a problem with me telling her but told me I should be more aware of who I was telling because she already knew. I was shocked, and needed to ask her how. She was reluctant to tell me at first, she didn't want to feel like she was telling tales. I transpired the day after I sent the original email The woman recipient at the earlist opportunity went into college and asked everyone if they had received an email from me saying I was dating women.

I can't describe my feelings the sense of nausea mixed with hurt, disbelief and and need to know more. I haven't spoken to her in fact my hands are tied. I can't challenge her because I would be compelled to tell her how I knew. She is also very close to other members of the cohort and I fear repercussions.

It's a harsh lesson I've learnt. It's true once tooth paste is squeezed it cant be put back in the tube.

Taking over life.

I'm told that you can either happily live with your sexuality as a small part of a whole which you can live with or your can weave your sexuality into your identity so it becomes you.

Its interesting I don't know if that's true. I have seen people whose sexuality I couldn't guess, and will never know, but I have also meet people who wear their sexuality proudly. I respect both sets of people whole heartedly. As long as they have chosen their own path. I am no world authority, I know few people.

I think it's relevant to me because if I was to change my life and come leaping majestically out of my closet from behind the myriad of clothing I have stored in there, I wonder how I will be. It's something I have thought about randomly.

I was spooked a few weeks ago. I needed a small holdall to carry my gym kit in and pack as an overnight bag when I go away. At the time I didn't know how often I would use it so I went to the market to buy something cheap and cheerful.  The only bag I could find was camouflage in design I reluctantly bought it and took it home. I carried the bag into my living room and as I was on the verge of putting it on the dinning room table my son shouted 'Lesbian.'

I froze routed to the spot, does he know something? Has he read my emails? A thousand thoughts ran through my head. I lost the ability to think clearly. Was I being outed by my son? It took forever for my heart to beat again and when it did I caught my breath and turned to face him. 'What do you mean?' He pointed to the bag and laughed. I turned away I sighed the biggest sigh of silent relief I could muster. This is what prompted my musings. I guess the realisation that ones sexuality isn't ever far away from a conversation.

Confusion reigns

My first blog post detailed an early memory. I guess I should jump to now and paint a picture of current events.

I'm 40, I have three sons, I Have had three long term serious relationships. I'm single now which is my choice, although at some point I'll explain my various breakups.

I guess I'm writing this blog for me in an attempt to order my thoughts and get a clear picture on the direction I'm heading. As I said I'm single, 40 and I feel like I'm standing on a precipice.

I sat in work today and looked in horror as I realised my handbag was open. I could see the DVD I was keeping in my bag rather than leaving it on the DVD shelf. It's a DVD of a drama series aired some years ago on the BBC called Tipping the Velvet. A remake of a Susan Waters book. How I came by the DVD is interesting but we'll leave that for today because that in it's self is a journey through time.

I watched TTV a few weeks ago. I watched it half at home and half in a B&B my excitement of watching it was so great I took my laptop away with me. I had another seminal moment while watching it I think the greatest thought that I had was that I need to widen my circle of friends not only because I needed to talk to someone when I had watched but because watching a film about women in a relationship seemed so matter of fact and right to me.

It was like I woke up at the end of the film I realised that while I found it an engaging story about women in love, the fact that although that I had found it beautiful not everyone sees this as normal. That feeling of being out of step washed over me like a wave. I felt so alive, so scared and so like I needed to connect with someone and explain. I couldn't talk to the people I had booked into the B&B with, and the person who gave me the DVD was not accessible either. Here in lies the realisation that I need to get out more.

After I had watched the film I lay on the bed and turned regular TV on. I watched the xfactor. I thought of all of the opportunities to follow my heart and instincts. I'm glad I didn't because I have my sons and I love them more than my own life. If I have the choice of not having my boys and never following my heart I wouldn't ever follow my heart. 

Since I had them though I could of made better choices and that's what I thought about every time I have looked at a girl and looked away, every time I had thought about a girl and buried the thought so deep it almost didn't exist in me. I have only once followed my heart. I ended up doing the unrequited thing. I have always felt I couldn't talk openly because I had never had a female relationship and with out the experience of this relationship how can I possible validate how I feel.

And now confusion reigns should I follow my heart and jump into the 'L' lifestyle or stay single or bury myself again? Its a question that's really to big for me to answer.

 

An Early Memory

One of my earliest memories was lying on the bedroom floor I shared with my older sister. We had a copy of Smash hits. As avid young Duran Duran fans we bought every copy of Smash Hits we could. At first we cut out the article on Duran Duran and stuck them into a scrape book, later we realised Smash Hits Magazines were a valuable commodity and we kept our copies pristine. We bought the magazine on the day it was published, we read it together. Reading Smash Hits was one of the very few times we didn't argue. We shared a love of pop music and the discovery of trivial information on the bands we loved and the music we heard. I remember one day we purchased a copy of this treasure periodical lying down to read it together we saw a picture of Legs and Co.  We talked about the picture I remember her asking me which one I like best. I pointed to Rosemary. I can't explain why I like Rosemary above the others. It was just that I was attracted to her. 

In hindsight the conversation was desperately normal  to me. I thought it was OK to like women. I was the first time in my life that I actually said out loud I like her. I didn't ever get the attraction to boys. I played the game picking a boy to like, to talk to the other girls about. I picked someone who was miles away from me so there was no chance of actual conversation.

It was only when I was a little older I realised that this beautifully innocent conversation which my sister probably won't have any recollection of was one of many seminal moments for me. 

Holding my pillow I wasn't holding you

lost in the surreal longing to feel

the intimate warmth of your breath

the heart beating in time with the thought

of the soul entangled with mine

  

It's physical the longing in my mind

I've held you a thousand times

said a thousand words to you and

shared a million thoughts with you

 

The minuets we are apart stretch in to

hours that turn in to days

the fear building with the eternal 

coming of the unchartered future. 

 

The quivering first touch

locked in an essential dream

The uncertain kiss

lips, mouths touching across

the unseen chasm of unreality 

almost forbidden in its illusiveness

 

I fought the urge to screem

to run to hide to reach out in to the

darkest part of the night for you

I haven't fought the urge to love you.