Back in January I wrote about coming out to my family and mentioned that I didn’t have a big ah-ha moment when it came to realising that I was gay.
There were no questions. I didn’t struggle to figure myself out. I just was. Which was great until now.
Now, at the age of 28, the questions arise. With that comes the ups and downs, the what the fuck moments, the decision to either be the person I thought I was or the person I am now and the things, said and done, that have meant unnecessarily dragging others into my year of confusion.
I’m bisexual. Why I didn’t just say that, in my last post, I don’t know. But there you have it.
I know, I know, I’m the girl who ranted about being a feminine lesbian and I can hear the ‘I told you so’ and/or ‘I knew it’, from some of you, from here but this is me and I meant what I wrote at the time. Hypocritical and all as that sounds.
Have I been lying to myself for the past eight years? No. Am I lying to myself now? No.
What changed? Well that seems pretty obvious. Why it changed I don’t know, but I’m done second guessing myself and am just going to go with whatever happens.
For the first time, in a long while, I’m not only comfortable in my own skin but I’m happy being me.