And so my story begins…

with a reunion with a lesbian birth mother, a rousing but simmering curiosity and a question about my sexuality. I was 13 years old.

Often, when I was 11, I played ‘doctor’ quite fervently with a childhood friend. We explored each others bodies, exposing and touching but never penetrating the secret place between our thighs. All of this took place under a bed sheet disguised as a “fort”, in broad daylight, on my parents front porch. Oh, the sweet innocence of the 70’s.

Her name was Beth. She was two years my senior. A beautiful black haired, black eyed yet mysterious creature who even then, I’m sure, studied the dark arts. I often wondered if she were a witch and had cast some sort of sex spell on me. Beth was a little odd. Just enough to make her eccentric and interesting and I was immensely drawn to her. She was in complete control and knew exactly what she wanted to do to me and what she wanted me to do to her. I trusted her implicitly, though at times she frightened me with her boldness.

I wanted to be her victim in our sexual play. Even then I was attracted to the sexually dominant female and God help me, I still am. Is it because my truest initiation, my first girl on girl encounter was with a dominant? It’s interesting how beginnings create and shape us in the end…

But, as much as Beth made me wonder at the marvel of our explorations and the delicious feelings her hands evoked, when she was cruelly removed from my life, I don’t think I ever fully recovered. After Beth, I never even considered acting on the idea of being with or touching another woman. Beth had almost died in a freak cycling accident and I was the only witness. Her parents blamed me, even though it was truly an act of God, and somehow I got the message that horrible things happened to girls who ‘played’ with each other like Beth and I had.

The fantasy stayed with me, buried somewhere deep in my psyche. A sinful fascination that stayed quiet in my mind, but the idea of being intimate with a woman was terrifying. No matter how many times the temptation was placed before me, or the invitation issued, I never had the courage to give in to my desire. Lesbians scared the hell out of me with their secret smiles, their laughing eyes and their casual, yet all too knowing fingertips.

But still…

I couldn’t deny and never fully understood the pull of desire I felt whenever I was around them or my need to seek them out. To be honest, I never thought I would take my imaginings any further than my mind. But one day, not so long ago…well, it just happened. I kissed a girl and I liked it.

A lot.

In a whirlwind of blind passion I ended a comfortable, safe and loving 16 year relationship with a man, my husband of only a year, moved out on my own with his blessings and began the journey of exploring my sexuality.

A journey still very much in progress…

I was 47 years old.
And I wanted to be with a woman.

What the hell was I thinking.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s