I’ve been asked, “How’d you know you were a Lesbian?” numerous times by a lot of people, and like a Pepperidge Farms box of cookies, I’ve given an assortment of answers. However, today I’m thankful to have the courage to come out with the truth. I usually find it easier to talk about provocative subject matters on paper than I do in person, although I’m not afraid to talk about anything, I’m just more authentic when my audience’s expressions, aren’t visible to me, they tend to filter my voice. (Cracking voice,) My simple answer is this: I’d rather feast, than be feasted, or as I’ve put it before, “I’m the fucker, not the fuckee.” (Head dropping)
You may be wondering what that means? Well for sure it doesn’t mean I used to have sex with men as the giver. I always played the role my anatomical parts provided, however in my head I was the reverse. I’ve been the one on top my whole life, ever since I was old enough to fantasize and masturbate, however, I never knew that meant I was a Lesbian. I’m not speaking literally here, I’m not saying I was always physically the highest sexual partner, as in the Turkey to the stuffing, but in my mind, I was never penetrated whenever I was cooking, my thermometer popped, and my juices ran clear. What?
I figured out I was a Lesbian because I wanted to do it to a woman, not be the woman having it done to me by a man. I thought about how good it must’ve been to be him; he had me. I wasn’t looking at women thinking I wanted piece of them, but I didn’t like being the main course for a man either. I always enjoyed myself the most when I closed my eyes and became the giver, however I didn’t let myself admit I was also giving it to a woman.
Finally one day it all came together after I met the right woman. I started noticing things about her I didn’t see on other women, like her collarbone, and her canine tooth, the way she smelled, and how well she understood me. The woman in my “scenarios, and in my dreams” now had a face, I was surprised and excited by what I allowed myself to see. I gave myself permission to embrace what my self-gratifying sexual preferences meant. Basically, by falling in love with a woman, I simultaneously acknowledged the symbolism hiding my private sex life.
So there it is, my cornucopia of limitless boundary crossing-too much information- but some of you asked for it, and I gave it, and as you just found out, I am a giver.
What delicious treats do you have to share this festive season?