She slipped her arms tightly around my waist and pulled my body close to hers with a smile. The warmth of her body made it hard to let go. I could feel my heart begin to pound and my face grow warm as I blushed with surprise and uncertainty.
There was no misreading the signals. As she slowly traced her fingers across the small of my back, the air grew thick with sexual tension and arousal. This was not our usual “text me later” way of saying goodbye. This was better.
My chest was heaving with anxiety and excitement as she rested her head gently against it. All I could think in that moment was that I never wanted her to let me go. My mind battled morals, while my body responded as if it knew exactly what to do.
Maybe that’s the point (according to some): I should have been ashamed, offended or even appalled, by merely the thought of a same-sex relationship. Maybe I should have spoken to a minister, claimed to have had an emotional breakdown or a quarter-life crisis.
Maybe I should have blamed drugs, alcohol, social networks or the media — anything other than the truth seemed preferable. The truth was this: I was experiencing “gay love,” and I didn't even attempt to resist it.
I wanted to feel love so desperately that I ravished each drop of affection she could give. I indulgently drank as if I had just returned from an extensive journey through the desert and only she could supply the water to quench my thirst.
Last week, I was straight. This week, I kissed a girl. Then, I kissed her again; she slept in my bed.
She stayed five years after that.
The Sex Was Hot
The sex was beyond words at times: ardent, breathtaking, unreal. It was a whole new world, and I was a desolate vessel that hungered for affection of the mind, body and soul.
It was never about having sex with a woman. It was about an unfathomable, compassionate abyssal connection; the complete understanding of someone else. It was intellectual stimulation, late-night conversations, favorite songs and laughing throughout the night, all the way until dawn.
It was the dream of a home, a family and a future. I could see it all in her eyes, as I weakly surrendered to the lure of her warmth and desire. She gazed into my eyes, as if she was lost and knew I had gone astray, too — long before she had ever ventured.
I could hear her soul calling out to mine in a soft whisper: “We can still find our way if we travel together!”
I was hooked. She was the fix that I needed, and I was in love with the drug.
Yes — I Used To Be A Lesbian
This is the point where many of us stop reading. But, what if we didn’t? What if we inquired and questioned, then we stuck around to listen to the answers? What keeps us from connecting and relating to one another?
Fear — our loyal companion. We avoid asking the hard questions because we're afraid of the responses we might receive. And plus, many of us have already rendered our own opinion as facts, selfishly relishing in our “right” to judge and exercising it to the fullest extent.
The Gay Bed
The LGBT community shouts, “Equality!” “Rights!” “Love is love!” “We are all the same!” Then, year after year, we gather to parade our diversity in the middle of the street. We throw beads and candy. We crank up the music. We raise our beers, makes our toasts and cheer. We print “pride” on flashy posters and paint our faces with glittering colors for the world to see.
We raise rainbow flags and wave to the kings and the queens and we all line the town to declare, “We are who we are!” And what are we? We're different. We're diverse. We're not equal. "We're gay and proud of it!”
At least, that is the message we send to an uninformed world as we disregard our lack of connection, grow comfortable with our fear of intolerance and make excuses for our absentminded efforts to open the door to understanding.
Instead, we flaunt the very labels we despise in the streets and flood the social networks with monologues on freedom, equality and pride. We rally behind our causes and defend our own people, who are accomplishing nothing more than the validation of branded stereotypes and biased perspectives that we've struggled to overcome.
The Straight Bed
The rest of us, who have firm ethical or moral convictions that prevent us from being able to accept the idea of homosexual, intimate, connection, grab our Bibles, raise our voices and defend the American tradition, proclaiming, “Sin!” “Moral corruption!” “Marriage is between a husband and wife! A man and a woman!”
While we're busy setting straight the sins of others with our humble opinions and scriptures, what do we fail to do? Exactly what the gay side doesn't do, either. We neglect to voice the very concerns that could help create understanding and acceptance.
Sex is the hot topic, every day of the week — so long as it’s traditional sex, between a man and a woman. Anything other than our personal beliefs is wrong. Homosexuals are corrupt, worldly and immoral.
At least, that's what we claim as we quickly deflect the idea that there’s more to the LGBT lifestyle than just carnal desires and lust. We shout our hatred and discernment confidently. We post objecting memes, “pray the gay away,” and shake our heads in disgust.
All the while, we quietly indulge in our secretly embellished pleasure of being able to entertain and express our thoughts about homosexual love and our newfound permission to exploit what was intended to be private.
We remain casually oblivious to our biases and we refuse to be bothered to ask the whys, hows and what ifs of the gay crisis that’s corrupting the world. We're more content with our eyes closed, even if we appear callous and ignorant.
The Same Bed
The thing about sex is that we all have it and those of us who aren't having it want it.
Our intimate desires, sacred fantasies, lustrous experimentation and the thoughts that nobody hears are all the same “sin,” no matter the perfect façade we've created. The only difference is that one side’s sin is exposed while the other side lives its sin in secret and shouts its prejudice without reserve.
We are all people — strategically placed and intentionally created as unique individuals. We're human, vulnerable, authentic, raw, breakable, dirty and weak. Own it. Stop limiting the scope of it and embrace it.
How do we teach our children to love unconditionally when they are surrounded by a culture of violence, discrimination and hate?
If we stayed out of our neighbors’ beds and spent a little more time seeking understanding, maybe we'd stand a chance at restoring value to the meaning of love; one that transcends beyond the sexual escapades to which we have limited it over the years.
Photo Courtesy: We Heart It