Why I Bloomed Late

Originally posted December 19, 2009

This is something I have questioned constantly since the day I realized that I'm gay. There are many reasons, many layers, and there are still many questions. For instance, my parents have questioned my sexuality numerous times...now why would that be, if they believe it's a choice? Especially since the "choice" I made all these years was to be with men? If they really believed that homosexuality was a choice, they wouldn't even wonder if I was gay - they'd just deny the possibility, period. So, somewhere in the back of their minds, hidden behind all their dusty old beliefs, they MUST understand that it's not something I chose.

But anyway, that's yet another blog for yet another day. The question at hand is why did I not realize that I'm a lesbian until I was almost 33 years old? I'm thinking specifically of just one reason - probably the main reason. My family.

As I've mentioned, my family was pretty abusive. Physically, mentally, emotionally, verbally, and (mildly, if there is such a thing) sexually. My parents never outright molested me, but my mom did quite a few things that ensured that my sister and I would be forever uncomfortable in our bodies. The day my sister started her period, my mom ran up and down the halls screaming that my sister was a woman and had started her period. I'm sure some would question whether that particular act could be considered abusive, but taken in context with the abusive nature my mother embodies, that one act is just a small example of her abusive tactics. She made comments about my (very large) breasts, constantly, in public. And of course, both of my parents made horrible, disparaging remarks about homosexuality, pretty much constantly.

A few weeks ago, I realized that as a child, I was very, very obviously attracted to females and not males. Men and boys used me for their pleasure. But I never once sought out a man or boy for my own pleasure. When I played doctor, it was with other little girls. I dated a boy when I was maybe 10 years old, but played sex games with his sister. I never touched him, not even to hug.

Now, there are two important things to note here. #1, my parents never taught me appropriate boundaries with other children. I remember as a child knowing that it was wrong, but not understanding why. My parents never pulled me aside and explained that it's not appropriate to touch other children's genitals. And #2, my parents HAD to have known what was happening. I can recall at least once when I was caught with a little girl playing doctor. I remember being shocked that my parents didn't say anything to me. They didn't see anything, because I refused to open my door...but rather than insisting that we talk about it, or even forcing the door open (which would have totally been in character for my authoritarian parents), they chose to act as though nothing had happened.

I believe that they simply chose to avoid any and all discussion of appropriate boundaries simply because it was so OBVIOUS that I only had boundary issues with other little girls. They simply couldn't handle the thought that I might be gay - and they certainly couldn't handle the thought that I was obviously born that way, since the first time I got caught I was like 2 years old. And so, they made a conscious decision to just pretend like it wasn't happening. If they ignored it, maybe I'd just somehow not be gay...right?

I think that attitude rubbed off on me a little. If I just ignored my attraction to women, then I'd be straight...somehow.

I don't even want to know how the conversation would go if I brought all this up to them now...but it would be fun to be a fly on the wall.