Coming Out - Oh no, I am a Lesbian! Or am I?

My coming out story starts at age 32. That's late? I agree. I still cannot believe how I was able to live my life with blinders on for this long - but I did. It all started with my move to Vancouver, BC in the summer of 2006. I came to Canada to start out newly and leave an unsatisfying life behind me.
Unsuspecting as I was, I moved in with my English teacher from the ESL (English as a second Language) school I was attending for the first few weeks in Canada. Jessie was awesome. She was funny, pretty and cool, very much liked by her students. When I mentioned I was looking for a place to stay she offered me a bedroom in her apartment. I was happy; the place was nice and the location perfect, close to beaches, the famous Stanley Park, shops, restaurants and downtown. And Jessie was very accommodating. We would chat when we met in the kitchen mostly while one or the other was preparing food. She seemed very wild and exotic to me, and I think that was the impression she wanted to make. One day, I had a couple of friends over for dinner, and Jessie started talking about her bisexuality and that this was the only true way to live a fulfilled and satisfied life. My friends found the conversation rather amusing and maybe a tad uncomfortable but I was inwardly intrigued, not quite sure how I was feeling or thinking about it and yet some excitement was undeniable.
A few weeks later, Jessie took me and a few other students of hers to a Halloween party. It started out as a barbeque at her friend's house and later moved to a street festival called the Parade of the Lost Souls. We all had a couple of drinks and were giggling and talking delightful non-sense. As we were walking along the street, Jessie quietly took my hand, so soft and gently that my heart leaped and my stomach filled with butterflies. I cautiously looked at her from the corner of my eye and I saw her giving me a warm and at the same time cheeky smile that I could feel all the way down into my panties. She asked if everything was alright. 'Yes', I said, 'sure'. So we walked along the street, hand in hand, giggling and flirting until the group dispersed and some of them decided to meet up again at a bar downtown. Jessie wanted to go, so I tagged along and we had another few drinks and giddy fun. I am not proud of this and don't think of myself as a heavy drinker but I have to admit I was wasted when we emerged from the bar. A clouded memory of a taxi has me guess our mode of transport on our way home. I do vividly remember the kiss Jessie gave me when we had entered the apartment, warm and longing. How she touched me, holding me at the hip, caressing my breast, stroking over my stomach, down and further.
Soon we parted, too soon. Jessie felt she needed to get out and go for a walk. But I was not the same anymore after this little adventure. The next day, Jessie apologized for what had happened. I said, 'don't', but it didn't help. While I had dreamed about a recurrence of the experience, for her this was all there was going to be.

I was heart-broken and very confused for quite some time. I talked myself into believing that it doesn't really matter if your crush is a boy or a girl, it's only about the person, about the character. And I believed I was in love. We still lived together and I saw her flirt, kiss and make out with some guys over the next few months while I was jealous and depressed growing more and more miserable. The situation was getting unbearable until she decided to pack up her belongings and move to France.
Once again I had to move. I used the next months to recover from the experience I had made and tried to make sense of it all. What did it mean that I had an even if harmless but still sexual encounter with a woman? Was I lesbian? Or was I just sexually deprived and curious? Did it mean anything?
Someone recommended a book to read, "The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron, and I worked through the chapters systematically. The book is meant to help artists with any kind of blockage such as a writer's block but it is very therapeutic and of use for anyone trying to figure out something about themselves. Part of the exercises is writing 'Morning Pages' in which I had to write 3 pages of anything that came to mind in the early morning. This was supposed to be cathartic.
At the same time I kept it light and did a couple of fun courses to keep me occupied such as Acting and Feng Shui. In one of these courses, I met an amazing guy that thoroughly confused me once over. The first moment I saw him I wasn't sure if he was a he or a she. Well, that was quickly established through his interactions with others and I simply assumed he was gay. Until he mentioned a former girl-friend of his and later revealed that he was bisexual. I was drawn to him, and he could feel that I was in a state of inner turmoil and uncomfortable within myself. When we were on our own once, he asked directly, and he became the very first person I confessed to, 'I might be queer'. His reaction was stunningly simple. 'So what, isn't everybody queer?' By that time, I had been writing my morning pages for months filling a whole book with worries and concerns, agonizing and whining, 'I don't want to be queer or gay or lesbian' because of the social pressure that would be evoked by this confession, the judgment and prejudice I would be subjected to. I was still of the belief that all lesbians were unsightly and just not wanted by guys, disregarded by society. Boy, I was full of judgment and prejudice myself!
My bisexual friend just laughed at my carefully voiced concerns and views and he then explained that there were beautiful women out there loving other beautiful women, I should just open my eyes and explore the real world. I felt very small and embarrassed that day but immensely relieved at the same time for having divulged my biggest, hairiest secret without any of the scary consequences I feared. I had survived.
For a while, I stayed close to my new friend enjoying his light and easy going attitude towards life that I would have loved to emanate myself. He radiated a positive energy that warmed and captured me. Before long I had a little crush on him. Once again I started asking myself, what did it mean? Was I bisexual? Maybe I wasn't queer after all? Maybe I got away and didn't have to come out to the world at all?

One day, my bisexual friend asked me to volunteer for a show he put together with a couple of friends. The show was about "The law of attraction" for queers and explained the workings of this philosophy and the trio's experiences with it. This is how I came to see this precious friend telling his own unique story, coming out himself to a big audience including friends like me that didn't have a clue that he had been born and raised as a girl and only some years ago started transitioning into a male body. He was a great story teller and it was a grandiose unveiling. However, I was so confused and, I have to admit, shocked that I just left after the show without even saying another word to him. My head was spinning, as always searching for some meaning, some sense. I thought, 'so I DO like girls after all since he was one before'. Later that night, I called him and apologized for my precipitous disappearance and congratulated him for his courageous step of making his personal life public to help others cope with theirs. I knew he had been nervous before the show even though I had not known why. It became clear soon after this memorable night that he was not interested in me the way I thought I was in him. So I moved on, this time with less of a heartache than the time before.
Slowly did I start accepting the possibility that I was different. No wonder, I thought, that I hadn't had a boy-friend in more than seven years. No wonder I had never felt really content or satisfied with any of the guys I had been together with. No wonder that I used to like the slender guys with long hair and an effeminate air. It all started to make sense. And when I thought of it, didn't I have a crush on one of the girls in school choir when I was twelve or thirteen? At that time, I hadn't thought I could tell anyone about it because I'd had a feeling that it wasn't alright, not normal. And then there was that girl on my horseback riding vacation when I was fifteen. She was stroking me when I was injured and in pain, and I abruptly stopped her. Maybe I stopped her because it wasn't allowed to enjoy it that much? And then the architect who was my supervisor just before I went to Canada. We used to spend our lunch break together going out for a walk in the fields and have a sandwich on a bench in the sun. I was actually disappointed when she all of a sudden started talking about her boy-friend. I think at that point it started seeping through my defense mechanisms and a fuzzy and unclear idea emerged that there was something unusual going on within me. But still, I shoved it under a virtual carpet, unconsciously deciding to ignore anything that didn't fit into my world view at the time. A grim world view of intolerant people and frivolous queers. And frivolous they were, well, at least some of them.

After my latest experience and insights, I made the decision to 'open my eyes and explore the real world'. My bisexual, transgendered friend was right, I had a view of the world without ever having looked at it. I wasn't sure how to make contact and get into the queer community. I am not the kind that walks into a party and instantly starts talking and making friends with everybody. And even if I was, the mere thought of talking to a woman who called herself a lesbian and therefore clearly had sexual contact with other women still made me blush. So how talk with her without turning a bright purple? I still had a lot to learn. And experience.
A straight friend of mine had told me about Plenty of Fish, a dating site she used for meeting guys. So, I checked it out and discovered there were many women out there looking for other women. For play, dating, fun, friendship and relationship. I signed up and started a curious but shy exchange of messages with someone whose picture and profile I liked. At first, my heart was pounding and my palms sweating when I sent off a message wondering if she would write back and what she would write. Her response was light and entertaining which took away my nervousness an inch and we entered into an easy and insubstantial dialogue. Soon I looked forward to the messages she would leave me. Inevitably, at some point a real life meeting was suggested. Since the whole point of meeting people on this dating website was real life exposure I couldn't really decline and the date was coming up quickly.
I was terribly nervous but it made me feel better that she had admitted to being shy herself. We were going to meet at a coffee shop. We had both seen each others pictures online, so there wouldn't be a problem recognizing her. The pounding heart and sweaty palms were back about 2 hours before the date. When I saw her through the window from outside the coffee shop my first impulse was to just turn around and walk away. I halted shortly but pulled myself together and walked in instead. After an awkward hello we decided to go for a walk with our coffees. Motion always seems to make awkward moments a little more bearable. We quickly discovered that we didn't have too much in common, and I had found her much cuter on the pictures than in real life anyway. But we had a pleasant time on our walk and kept it light talking about things such as where we were from, how we came to Vancouver and what we do for a living and for fun. It was a completely normal conversation that I could have had with anyone. I had survived my first date with a woman! It by far wasn't as scary as I had expected it to be.

After the first date, I became a little more adventurous and there were a few more. I met a cute and funny legal assistant for a 4 hour coffee after only exchanging 2 messages on Plenty of Fish. I have to admit I was a little disappointed when she never got back to me after the date. I met with a pretty real estate agent that dragged me into a sex shop after our first coffee. This was my first visit ever to a sex shop, and since I didn't even have a clear idea of what lesbians actually do with each other I was a wee bit tense. After all, I didn't want to be found out as a newby just yet. Well, found out I was in no time. I still made it to a second date with the real estate agent; we went out dancing. This was another first: my first time at a lesbian dance party in the gay village. My date expressed her lack of understanding for the many women that, according to her, wanted to be boys and therefore were made up to look like boys. She made clear that she would only ever be interested in a femme. That night, I saw and heard a lot to think about. The real estate agent and I never met again after this night out. While we had a few things in common, we clearly weren't cut out for each other and she apparently still had an unresolved relationship backhanded.
I also met a woman that turned out to be transgendered. While this is certainly an interesting topic and I didn't hold any inherent prejudice against her, this 'freshly made' woman was full of hatred and aggression particularly towards her parents. She told me how she would like to violently injure her father and other people that didn't conform to her views. I do understand that many people have a very difficult time coming out to their family and to the world and there are very nasty stories to be told. I also believe that hatred and aggression do not change other people or the world to the better, rather the opposite. Her comments and views were appalling and disturbing to me. Then, she embarrassed me with her loud appraisal of oral sex in a family restaurant. Well, I guess it's just part of the dating process to also have less than pleasant encounters. I have to say, though, that no-one I met had misrepresented themselves online in any way. Only, I had to find a better way of distinguishing who I wanted to meet and who I didn't.

By that time, I had switched to another dating site. Some girls on Plenty of Fish had mentioned Superdyke which was a chatting and dating site exclusively for women or likeminded. Again, I found women looking for all kinds of contact: play, dating, fun, friendship, relationship. And many of them started a conversation with me right when my new profile popped up. I guess I was just the new face on the site but I enjoyed the attention. The first person who contacted me was a black guy. Still being the little greenhorn I was, I accused him right away: 'What are YOU doing on this site; you are a GUY'. Oh boy, I learned the hard way. The reply I received read, 'Wow! Offending me in the first message. I have been mistaken for a guy at times in my life but not usually by queer people.' Well, that was a good start! I felt ashamed and apologized. She forgave me graciously and suggested a new start. I hadn't really thought much about what appearance in a woman I was looking for but I didn't think that this black butch was of interest to me. Embarrassed about my bad behaviour, however, I agreed to the new start but with no intention to continue the conversation any longer than necessary.
Meanwhile, I had spotted among the profiles a girl that reminded me of Jessie, my English teacher and first lesbian 'love'. Not that she exactly looked like her but there was something about her that intrigued me. And her profile picture showed her clearly as a femme with long hair and in a bikini. Carrie. It took me about two weeks until I mustered the courage to send her a message. Unexpectedly, she replied right away and I had butterflies in my stomach while chatting with her. This seemed right. Carrie and I talked about ourselves and our dreams and aspirations. She found me inspiring and I was flattered. Throughout the following weeks, we got to know each other through our chats before we decided to meet.
After the first shine of the ample attention I was getting from all kinds of people on the site, I began discriminating who I wanted to chat with and who I didn't. Interestingly, the black butch and I continued exchanging messages after our first unfortunate encounter and I even found myself looking out for her. She might have not been my type but I sure liked her. Joe (that was her name) was smart and funny, and didn't shy away from a debate. We even had a fight about racism in our messages, with me of course on the loser road having had literally no exposure to a multi-cultural society before coming to Canada and being white myself. Joe had strong opinions about almost everything and we had good conversations before we finally decided to meet in real life.

Want to know how the story continues? Come back! I am still writing on it.