Conquering The Feeling of Shame for Being Born Queer

 Teardrops are falling

Down your face again, 'cause I 

Don't know how to love you when

I am broken, too

Maybe your words make sense

I could be the problem, I'm so sorry

I know we could just be friends

But I don't know when we come down from this, softly

Checking on my phone, tryna see what I did last night

Baby, I'm hating on myself 'cause I hate it when I make you cry 

I know I have written about this, before, but I cannot stop thinking about this whole 'never having been in love' thing. It's kind of becoming an obsession. Not in a bad way or an in denial kind of way. Just the opposite, in fact. Looking back on my past and my previous relationships, I am 99.9% that it is true. 

It's the question of 'why' that has become the obsession. 

Am I incapable of being in love? 

Clearly, I am capable of loving because I know I love my children beyond all reason. And there are a few friends that I know that I love. I know that I love them because of how I feel when I think about them or talk to them. Hell, just seeing my sons faces fills my heart and soul with such a light and a feeling of floating. And I know that I would do anything for any of them, including give my life, if it were necessary. 

But no romantic relationship has ever made me feel this. 

The above song is the latest from Liam Payne - yes, the same Liam that was once a member of One Direction. I love this song. It's beautiful and soulful and absolutely heartbreaking. Told from Liam's point of view, the song is directed at someone that he loves but whom he has hurt, terribly. For me, the words resonate because they are things I could say to myself. 

Through my fear and anger and even hatred of myself, I caused myself immense pain and damage, over the years. For me, the tears are more metaphorical - I have not been much of a crier since I was young. I think - no, I am positive - that all the trauma of my past broke me in a million different ways. It caused me to behave in less than acceptable ways. It caused me to be someone that I was not. And it prevented me from being able to fall in love with anyone. 

I am very certain that I am capable of falling in love. I love love. I have a very romantic soul. And a part of me has always known what I want in a partner and a relationship - whether it's with a woman or a man or a man that used to be a woman or a woman that used to be a man or a human that doesn't think of themselves as either. 

No, I think the problem has always lay in the above sentence "through my fear and anger and even hatred of myself..." More to the point, the truth lies in those last four words. My hatred of myself, the shame I felt at being who I was at the very core of me, was strong and deep and way too powerful for my fragile psyche to deal with at the young age that I realized just how different I was. 

Being raised in an environment and surrounded by a village full of people who said, over and over, that being Gay, being Queer, was a sin and an abomination and that anyone that 'chose' to be that was the worst kind of sinner - it did not sit well on the heart and soul of a young girl who knew, deep inside, that she was one of those 'abominations.' And hearing all of that set me on the path to hating myself. 

Of course, all the abuse - mental, physical, emotional, and psychological - that I have suffered, each had their own role to play in the mess I became for too many years. But it began with that little 4 year old girl who knew, on the first day of Kindergarten, that she looked at boys and girls in a very different way than her classmates. Who knew by the age of 9, when she kissed her first girl, exactly what it was that made her different. And knew that it was the very thing that every adult in her life had spoke out against and that the church she attended preached against. So, she lived in fear and shame, too scared to even tell her closest friends. 

At 9, I knew I was an 'abomination' by the standards of my very small community. Take a second to try to process that thought and what that little girl must have went through. Anyone that is reading this that has known me since I was that young girl, hopefully this will give you a better insight into why I was they way I was - an impossible to get close too Ice Queen (yeah, I knew about that nickname). Just know that I am so sorry that I kept you guys at arms length for so many years. 

Anyway...

I spent the next 20some odd years hiding that side of myself. Yet, I was unable to deny her what she wanted. And each time I gave into that desire to be close to or intimate with a girl or someone who did not identify as male, the guilt and shame just built higher and higher. It would send me into a world of darkness and mental instability - a world I could only bear by numbing myself with drugs. 

Then there was the whole not enjoying sex - most of the time - thing. Most of my sexual encounters, I only participated in because I knew that was what I was suppose to be doing and I was suppose to be enjoying it. Never mind that I hated almost every single sexual experience. 

Truthfully, I can count on one hand the number of partners I actually enjoyed sex with. And each one of those people were people that I felt a strong connection too and had known for awhile before sex ever happened. 

It's funny, as a child, I was often referred to as a tomboy. Something most Gen X women were called, no doubt. We are known as the feral generation for good reasons. But, for me, the term hit so deep inside of me. It always felt right. And I wore it like a badge of honor. 

Because I didn't always feel like a girl. There were many times when I felt more like a boy. I had short hair, I wore more boyish clothes, I ran around in my bare feet all day. I loved playing in the dirt and riding my bike and climbing trees. I played with toy cars and GI Joe. I hated dresses and make up and purses and fancy shoes. And I felt more comfortable hanging with the boys than I did with the girls. 

Eventually, I did come to like dresses and getting all pretty. I did grow my hair out. I even tried wearing makeup a few times. 

Today, I am a very interesting combination of feminine and masculine. I still hate makeup and fancy shoes and purses. However, I do enjoy wearing dresses and letting my long hair flow free and going to  fancy places, from time to time. But, I also enjoy wearing a suit and tie, winding my hair up on the top of my head and hiding it under a fedora or newsboy cap (I look terrible in baseball caps). I still love being barefoot or wearing my favorite pair of Converse. Sometimes my demeanor, the way I carry myself, is very feminine and sometimes it is very masculine - depending on how I feel that day. 

As you can see, having all this going on inside of me my whole life, but having to keep it hidden, was a whole lot for a young girl to deal with on her own. I think these secrets - the lies I was showing to the world and telling myself - it all laid the groundwork and was the beginning of my years and years of spiraling. 

This last year, on this self discovery journey, has been such a relief. With each truth I uncover, each secret I finally reveal and let go of, with each past trauma I allow myself to heal from, each toxic person I remove from my life - I feel lighter and freer. I feel more human and more like who I was always meant to be. 

Being at a place in my life where I can say - out loud - I am Queer, I am a combination of Bisexual and Omnisexual, I am Demisexual, I am Gender Fluid and feel nothing but Pride in those words is such a relief. Knowing that I did not choose to be Queer, that I was born Queer, makes me feel triumphant. Knowing that I don't care what anyone in this godforsaken little village has to say about any of it, makes me feel giddy and mischievous. Knowing that there are a handful of people here that love me, including all of the things I just said about myself, makes me feel blessed. Knowing that they love me because of EVERYTHING that makes me who I am, not in spite of parts of me, makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the whole world. 

Those people never say 'I still love you.' They never say 'I love you, anyway' 

They just say 'I love you.' 

And that truly does make all the differences. 

Finally having all these realizations come to light and being on this journey of healing has changed me on a fundamental level. And it has helped me believe that I will fall in love, someday. 

Somewhere out there is my perfect partner. And I am almost ready for them.