Hello again Friends!

I am really starting to enjoy regularly writing here. Some days are really awful, but some days are okay. It’s nice to have a community to share it all with.


Honestly, I don’t feel like I have been “out to myself” for very long. But, it amazes me that it took such a long time to figure it all out. I mean, I’m still getting the hang of things, but I know I’m finally headed in the right direction. Lately, I’ve started to feel more comfortable about my queer identity, and it’s even become a prominent part of my art. As weird as it may sound to some, it feels nice to finally be accepting of myself.

One of my close friends, who I am out to, encouraged me about taking my time to figure out my own sexuality. Apparently, it often takes individuals until their adult years to really understand their attractions and identity. Obviously, everyone comes to understand themselves in their own time and in their own way.

I think part of the reason that it took me such a long time was due in part to my upbringing. I wasn’t given the chance to learn about the LGBT+ community, or really have a supporting environment to develop an understating of things like sexuality, attraction, or relationships. Finally being able to learn and understand these aspects really have helped me as a queer woman.

But, on the other hand, it is shocking to me that my own actions, feelings, and personal expression were not stronger clues to helping me comprehend my queerness.

Let me see if I can explain. As a small child, I hated anything sparkly or pink. Instead, I wore dinosaur t-shirts and hunted for bugs in my parent’s backyard. Now, obviously this behavior is not necessarily a sign that I was gay. After all, many feminine women are queer. But this was a strong aspect of the way I felt comfortable presenting my gender identity, which also aided me in becoming comfortable with my sexuality later on.

Honestly, there were a lot of little signs, clichés, and other experiences that really make a lot more sense now. As a preteen, I wore cargo shorts and cheep polo shirts to my classes, played sports with the guys, and never could figure out why I didn’t quite fit in. I played softball for about a decade without even questioning the irony there. It was during those junior high years that I met a girl on my team. She left quite the impression. I distinctly remember desperately wanting to talk to her whenever I could. Just to be around her. To see her each time we went to practice. I thought she was so cool and popular and amazing. There were other girls I’d had similar feelings for before her and many, many others after. But this girl was one that I think I started to realize something really important. More than being a tomboy with my bowl hair cut, muddy sneakers, and pet lizards. It was more than just how I presented myself, but also who I wanted to be with.

I regret that I never tried to understand that back then. It could have made some things a little easier later on. I regret that I pushed those feelings deep down inside for such a long time.


Now, I feel more comfortable about myself than I ever really have. I still like to present myself in a, well, mildly butch way. It fits who I am. I don’t play sports much anymore. But I do have a better grip on my own identity, and that beats a home run any day.


Until next time!



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