Friday, April 1, 2011
Realizing who I was…a defining moment
Here’s a bit of history that most people don’t know about me.
Growing up, I never had a moment when I thought, “Shit! I’m a lesbian.”
From a very young age, I always knew that the other girls were different. As far back as I can remember, girls liked boys, and they liked wearing frilly, lace outfits. They weren’t like me. Even back then, I had a chivalrous attitude toward women. I wanted to hold the door open for girls, show them exclusivity, to treat them with respect and be someone that they would be proud to stand next to.
Then, I hit my teen years, and my parents started to notice that, their pretty little girl wasn’t so girlie, after all. I remember that dreaded day in Junior High when my mom threw away all my jeans, pants and shorts leaving me with nothing but dresses and skirts to wear. Do you know how hard it is to play baseball or hop over fences in a freaking dress? Not to mention that the boys who were afraid of me, just didn’t see me as tough after I paraded around in that hot pink chiffon dress. I had officially lost my pecking order and the feelings of not belonging, set in. I spent most of my younger teenage years searching for other’s like me. I was lost and alone in world full of people.
My parents started, what I call, religion hopping until they found a church that was willing to baptize me for the 10th time.
When that failed to save me, it was therapy. I remember the therapist asking me if there was anything I felt I needed to talk about and my grand answer was…yeah, my parent's inability to commit to one religion.
While I was hospitalized, the therapist discussed my fascination for wearing pants/jeans/shorts and for me preferring to button my shirts left over right, which I later found out was traditionally designed for men, as opposed to right over left, for women. Who knew? I just knew it felt more comfortable for me. Little did I know that it was the sweet makings of a butch in progress. LOL
When therapy failed to cure me, exorcism was next and oh boy, what an experience that was!
There I was, 14 years old and sneaking in way past my curfew, drunk and feeling not so good, if you know what I mean. Sitting there next to my mom were two priests armed with crucifixes, candles, bibles and their little smoking things, which made my stomach, turn south. Due to the alcohol I consumed at the party earlier, I don’t remember much except that I puked on one of the priests.
I was baptized, hospitalized and exorcised in an effort to save my soul, but save my soul from what? It wasn’t until I met my first love, at the tender age of 15 that I finally understood.
She said, “You’re a girl. You're not supposed to like girls. It means you’re a lesbian and besides that, you’re too damn butch for me.” She kissed me and walked out of my life, forever. That brief encounter taught me more than any church or therapist ever could. As her soft, tender lips pressed against mine, something inside me clicked and I knew I was no longer lost.
Right then, the heavens opened up for me, and I swear I heard the angels sing, maybe it was from all the baptisms, but that was my, Damn! I am butch hear me roar moment. Not to be confused with my coming out moment, two different subjects and two different stories. And the rest is history from there.
The one thing I remember clearly from my childhood was that even though I didn’t know what I was, unconsciously, I knew that being attracted to girls was a part of who I was.
What if any, was a defining moment in your life?