~My Space~
2002-05-06 - 9:04 p.m.
Who I really am
by Christel M. Koos
I always knew that I was different. I felt that somehow a personality trait separated me from the rest of the human race. Realization starting happening for me in my younger, more naive years, when I was allowed to make excuses because I honestly didn't know how I felt. Idolization became confusing because it became much more than that, and I didn't know exactly what it was that made me attracted to other women.
I remember one specific time when I was about 12. After getting out of the shower, being wrapped in my towel and staring at the mirror, blankly staring at my own reflection. And with much thought in my stare, I just blurted out, "I cannot be a lesbian, I just can't." I didn't even know where it came from, or why I had said it to myself in the mirror, I guess subconsciously it's just what had been on my mind. That was the first, real time during my younger years that I wasn’t naive enough to actually see, and admit it. The more I thought about it, the more disgusted I became with myself. Pondering ways to change myself, assuming that it could be done, I racked my brain every second I had alone. Excuses were made in my confusion such as, "well, I'm sure that every girl goes through this," or, "maybe I'm just misunderstanding my own thoughts." I tried convincing myself that I was not this horrible of a person to go against my morals, my religion, and everything else I had been taught when I was growing up.
Of course, I rebelled, trying to cover it up with unemotional kisses from my many heterosexual relationships. Dating men became more of a hobby than something I was actually emotionally involved in. I pushed dating men a lot. I forced the normality of the man and woman relationship because I knew that as a person, I would not be accepted if I didn't. So I continued to lead a lie-filled adolescence. I was alone, or at least, I felt so.
I started struggling with my thoughts and indecisive feelings. My thoughts were not shared, nor communicated, or even practiced. I was more scared that I was different than anything else. Almost as if I would not be accepted into society.
I was 16. My hands became drowned in sweat, and my heart was literally in my throat. She kept asking if I had ever thought about kissing another girl. I was so uneasy I swear you could see it in my eyes. I finally broke down and very cool-like admitted, that yeah, I had thought about it a few times. I lied. I thought about it more than anything else. What she asked me next, I already had the answer to years before. "So..... Do you want to find out what it's like,... you know,... to kiss another girl?"
I can't believe she asked me this! Just flat out..... kinda like... "hey, wanna make-out?" At this point, after being extremely shocked and overwhelmed, I knew that I was either going to find out for sure, or remain a coward for the rest of my life. So as we continued to sit on her bed, nervously knowing what was going to happen next, I kept trying to stall by asking questions on how she felt. She didn't have it, and she was very persistent. I then swallowed the oversized lump in my throat and leaned over to kiss her. I let our lips slowly meet each other, and then feeling out her comfortability, as well as mine, I let the progression of the kiss grow. There was just no way to describe it.. it was wonderful, it had so much meaning, so much passion, and with the feeling that I did something so wrong, it actually felt so right. I was addicted to it,... already. I had so many butterflies in my stomach I literally felt sick. We both felt it, and we both did not want to stop this amazing feeling that we just founded. It was pure ecstasy that lasted throughout the night.
I started coming to the calms that maybe this was who I was, a bi-sexual. Accepting it was the hardest thing, but it was easier being in Stacie's presence. She was the first girl I kissed, and she became the only person in my life. I ditched my friends, family, responsibilities, work, and school. I wanted to feel that ecstasy all the time, and I was extremely selfish with it. It altered my life, and I began my rebellious period of my teenage years. Thinking I was in love, nothing else mattered. I completely lost myself and began a downward spiral. Knowing that I had to do something to get myself back. I told her that I couldn't see her anymore . I started seeing boys again, off and on, never for any more than a consecutive month. I tried to hide from what I had started to think maybe wasn't me, because I didn't want it to be. However, in drunken stages at parties, I allowed myself to secretly pursue the feelings I pushed way back in my mind.
I began to "came out" slowly, to my best friend first, and after receiving her acceptance. I moved on to friends at school. Everyone was a lot more supportive and understanding than I believed them to be, but I didn't tell them the full truth just yet.
Finally, when I was 17 closely nearing the age of 18, I realized what being gay was all about. I started going to a gay club to find myself better; or rather, to lead myself to more concrete answers about who I was. And let me tell you that I found it there..... I defiantly found it there.
People dancing, having fun, being themselves, being who they were born to be, proud of who and what they were, and most importantly, who they loved. They didn’t seem to care what people thought, and I liked this change of scenery. I thoroughly enjoyed my new friends that I made here, and it became tradition to go every week.
On one of those weekly trips, I sat abnormally content at the table in front of the dance floor. Abnormally only because my usual spot was on the dance floor dancing my fool head off, but for some reason I was unmotivated that day. I was unaware of things going on around me, keeping occupied with my own personal thoughts in my head about work, and school. But, for some unknown and very odd reason, I looked over at the entrance doors and was instantly taken aback. I would've bet on my life that the most beautiful thing I had ever seen just had walked through the doors to the bar at which I had been at. I was addicted to watching her, and I could not control my eyes following her all over the bar. I would’ve told you at that moment that I was in love, that’s how sure the feeling in my stomach was. She was just such an interesting creature to watch, and instantly I wanted to know her. Needless to say, that nearing the end of the night I was sitting next to her exchanging email addresses. We barely knew each others name's but I think we both felt what was there, pulsating between our bodies. I was so overcome with every emotion I have ever felt before, and emotions that I've never felt. It was such, that I felt as though I was literally high on life, on top of the world, .... untouched.
So the emails and phone calls began, seeing each other just about everyday. Beginning a strong, love-filled relationship. We were untouchable, we loved each other that much. I fell in love, and could not stop myself from continuing to fall. She was all that was magnificent in my life now. I was addicted to her touch, her voice, and hell, even the sight of her could've broke me down. I couldn't take it anymore, lying to my mom, my friends, about who I REALLY was.
One May afternoon, my mom kept scolding me about not ever being home. She began to ask me just why I like to go over to Amber's so much. I finally, and literally, took a deep breath. She was walking into her bedroom, and I swear she paused, and turned to me in mid-step after I had said it. "What?! Your meaning to tell me that your like... girlfriends??? Like, you guys are girlfriend,... and ... uh.. girlfriend??" She had the most disgusted look on her face that I've ever seen.
"Um, uh, yeah, ....," I quietly said. I swear all the while her face disgusted, mine in turn was so red, and sorry of myself. My heart was racing, and was in my throat, I felt as though I just got caught doing drugs, or skipping school. I felt so ashamed of myself. And she stood there, explaining her thoughts to me, in the most unkind words I've ever heard come out of her mouth. I bawled all the while her yelling, shouting at me for being a "dyke", and the most "disgusting thing", even to go as far as saying that I "was not her daughter". I cried so hard that I could barely catch my breath. I was mortified, and at that moment I remember praying to God to please just do away with me. I wanted it to be over, but the yelling continued. Finally she told me to "pack your stuff, and get out. ..... And don’t drink out of my glasses when you leave." She then left herself as I grabbed my suitcase and through it on the bed. I called my girlfriend, Amber, and cried to her, wondering what I was going to do. She instantly told me not to worry about a thing, calmed me, and told me to bring my things to her place where I could stay for as long as I'd like to.
I felt better with my mom vacated, my packing done, and Amber to calm me. Just as my crying had seem to cease, I heard the door open, and angry footsteps walk through. She instantly came to me and told me that she had just went to my dad's, told him of this recent news, and she had so politely went on to tell me that my whole family was just informed via telephone from her also.
My weeping began again, but I tried to stay productive with moving my things to the trunk of my car. She tried to stay back, in her room, shouting things still, almost as if she was talking to herself. I began to become almost useless again, bawling harder than before. I was influenced by my crying and I couldn't pack as fast as I was before. And, finally, I got everything in my car. I was just walking around to get into the drivers seat, and I went to take one last look at my house. I just stood there, crying looking at it for a few seconds, and my mom popped out, without even making eye contact and shouted something that rang in my ears for weeks.
"Have a nice life!!!," and the door slammed as an exclamation point.
My life began at Amber's, still with two weeks left until graduation, I was on the verge of not graduating. I had no money, barely enough gas to make it to school, and I wasn’t sure if I could graduate. I spent my last few days of school in suspension, so I had a lot of time to think about what had happened on that 18th of May. I kept on by Amber's smile, and her strength. She comforted me the many times I broke down, and the many times that I just wanted to give up on everything.
Graduation day finally came, I was thoroughly proud of myself for making it all the way to the end. But, although it was supposed to be one of the greatest days, I was still, at my lowest point. This was the moment I had been looking forward to for all of my school years, all 12 of my years in school, and none of my family was there. Not one of them. I had Amber, and our roommate there. That was it. I walked up to the podium, put on a smile, and received my diploma. As I walked down to the floor, I had to stop for a few friends parents eagerly wanting to take pictures, and in the midst of people stopping me telling me congratulations, I looked over ...... There she was, open arms, and dressed in tears. I instantly went to her, my arms open too. I embraced my mom with every emotion I ever had. And she pulled me back from her, looked at me, and said, "I am so proud of you."
And so I continued to live at Amber's, got a job, and talked to my mom every now and then. There were a few remarks that she would make here and there, but for the most part she just tried to forget that I told her I was gay. She felt very strongly that this was a phase, and she was joined by many other people I knew as well. My Aunts, of course, were the most comforting, trying to make my mom understand that she doesn’t have to accept it, but just accept me.
It's been almost 2 years since I told her, and everything has changed. Although IM not with Amber anymore, I still talk to her, and I still love her. My family still doesn’t understand it, but they inquire on how I'm doing, and sometimes they would even ask how Amber was doing. I live in Virginia now, so I've moved on to find myself in the career aspect. My mom and I have grown to have a very loving, and understanding relationship. Through several tear-filled talks I've educated her on what it's like to be this way, to be the person that I was born to be. I think she finally understands, but most importantly, I finally understand, and I am very proud to be who I am.
