Reflection Paper

No One Ever Told Me I was Gay

Some of the earliest memories that I have of my mother are of her putting on makeup. Her blue mascara, and the aromatic alcohol smell of her hair spray. She was an eighties hair bad girl, and would go to great effort to have as much volume in her hair as possible. She thought it was cute and fashionable to dress me up like her. My mother was proud of how cute I looked in the clothes she bought me.

My mother would put in a video cassette and go out with her friends. I would sit content and watch the cartoon story of princes and princesses and true love with my cousin. My cousin was three years older than me, but she thought she was even older. She would sneak into the bathroom and use my mom's makeup, trying to copy my mother's style.

“I think Prince Eric is really cute. When I grow up, I want to marry some one who looks like him.” My cousin would muse as I watched her daringly spread blue eye shadow over her eyes, half listening, half worried if my mom would be upset if she knew. She would often talk about boys, and even had a subscription to those magazines that featured boys, and other magazines that had tips about makeup, and how to dress attractively. “I want to get married happily ever after, and have two kids. One boy, and one girl. What do you want to do when you grow up?”

“I want to win a Nobel Prize!” I answered excitedly.

“No, no, no...” My cousin responded. “What kind of guy do you want? How many kids?” At the time, I really hadn't thought about it. Pictures of princes, and boys on t.v. flashed through my head, but none of them seemed appealing. “I think you would look good with Zack from Saved from the Bell.” She responded for me. As I grew older I kept trying to find an answer to her question. I would date boys that my friends approved of.

“Wow, Steve is hot. His family is rich too. I can't believe he asked you to the dance!” My friend wooed. A month later I ended things with Steve after a heavy make out session because I really wasn't into him. Meanwhile my mother was surprised I could get dates at all.

“You look like a boy in that out fit, and you would look much better if you wore some makeup.” I didn't understand why it was so important. “You have beautiful thick hair, and you cut it all off. I would kill to have hair like yours!” She continued. “Why don't you wear the cute clothes I bought you?” She wouldn't drop it.

I was seventeen when I met a boy named Lee through some mutual friends. We hung out a couple of times, then he started leaving me love letters.

“He's a really nice guy, good looking, plus he has a car. Why don't you date him?” My friends would ask.

“I don't know...” I thought about it. “I don't hate him, he is a good friend.”

“You guys have a lot in common too! You're perfect for each other!” My friends insisted. “Also, you're eighteen and still a virgin! What are you waiting for?”

Meanwhile Lee got more persistent. His love letters would talk about how I was the only one for him, and that he would kill himself if he couldn't have me. He also claimed I was cold and leading him on. Was he serious? Was I really being harmful towards him? I didn't want him to hurt himself... He was right, I should give him a chance. A year later he asked me to marry him. I was at an Air Force recruiting office, and the recruiters had just finished telling us how much easier life in the military is for couples if you are married.

“Well, what do you think? Should we?” He didn't exactly get down on his knees.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are such a cute couple!!” The recruiter exclaimed. I couldn't help but notice the amount of makeup she was wearing, almost as if she was trying to compensate for the fact that she was wearing olive-drap camouflage. Later that day Lee bought me an engagement ring and broke the news to his parents. My mother gave me jewellery to wear with my wedding dress. I justified it by telling myself that it is just as easy to break up with a fiancé as it is a boyfriend.

“Why don't you like kissing me?” He would often ask during our intimacies. “I feel like you don't like it when I touch you.”

“I just don't like sex.” I explained. “I hate the way it makes me feel.”

“How can you hate it? It is suppose to make you feel good. You say you get off, so are you lying?” When he was talking all I could think about was how disgusted I felt afterwards. He was right, I would orgasm, so what's the problem?

“No...” I hesitated so I could find the right words. “I think it's me. I guess I just don't like sex.”

I wish I could say that was the only problem that plagued our relationship. I can even say that if it was the only problem, then things wouldn't have turned out the way they had. We fought, a lot. About sex, about bills, about everything, but mostly about nothing. We decided to separate. This is when I had the most life changing experience that led to the biggest epiphany of my life.

“Hey, how are you?” She asked over instant message.

“Oh, I'm good. You?” We talked for hours, until out of the blue she asked me a question that was a change of pace from our regular conversation.

“So, uh... I want to tell you some thing really important... and it may seem weird... but I really really want you to know because I think you're a cool person, but I don't want you to think different of me...” She was gay. I remember thinking that her sentence's tone of awkwardness was perfectly complimented by her usage of ellipses.

“Oh, haha, I am cool with that. Don't worry!!” I assured her. “I'm really happy you trust me enough to tell me!”

“Of course I trust you!! But... I also wanted to tell you... that I really really like you...” That's right, she confessed to me. I should have been use to it, and I wouldn't have been surprised if she was a guy. Did I feel giddy? I told her I was straight, but I appreciated her friendship. Truthfully I was excited, and I stayed up all night thinking about the conversation. I babbled at friends about what she said, about who she was.

“You have a crush on her!” Were the words of a friend that made most of the pieces fall in place. After a very confusing while I took her up on her offer, and then the rest of the pieces came together. I learned that there was nothing wrong with me when it came to enjoying sex. That I was interested in dating... the same sex. My family was shocked, but they eventually warmed up to the idea.

“I don't know how I never notice!” I remember my mom saying once afterwards. I don't know how she could have noticed, when I didn't even realize myself. I was too busy living up to the expectations of normality that I never thought I was gay. I hated any sort of intimacy with men so much I never even thought to apply it to women. As for my first girlfriend and I? We had a very rewarding two year long relationship that didn't work out in the end, but we are still very good friends. I haven't dated men since.