Pride | My Sexual Identity History [Somewhat NSFW]

Happy Pride month, to my lovelies!!! For the last nearly two weeks, my Twitter timeline has been flooded with rainbows, and stories of love and acceptance, and it is filling my little heart with so much joy, despite all of the awful garbage happening in our world. In honor of this glorious month of celebration and inclusiveness, I thought I would share with you my own personal journey of finding my sexual identity. If that’s not really your cup of tea, then feel free to skip this one. No need to comment if you’re just going to be nasty.

Warning, there’s just a wee bit of NSFW material ahead. Nothing too crazy, but you’ve been warned!

I was born in raised in southern Maine, in a pretty liberal area. I think I knew that I was interested in girls near the end of my elementary school years (around 4th grade maybe?), but it didn’t become super clear to me until middle school. I was sexually active at a young age. Now, “young” is subjective, of course, but back then, kids weren’t losing their virginities in middle school, and getting knocked up in the 8th grade. I was a bit promiscuous, which I think stemmed from the fact that I developed waaay earlier than any other girls I knew. In fact, when 4th grade rolled around, and they separated the boys and the girls, we were asked if any of us has started our periods yet, and only two of us had. In the whole school. I had already had mine for a year, and had been wearing a bra for even longer.

By the time middle school rolled around, I was curvier than most other girls I knew, and I got a lot of attention for it. Not always good attention, but I didn’t know any better. My first real kiss was in the 7th grade, with a boy that I had been battling another girl for the attention of. The three of us had woodshop together, and although she was always super bitchy toward me, I was pretty sure that I was into her as well.

I had had a dozen or so boyfriends by the time I left middle school. I knew that I liked girls, and no one had ever told me whether that was right or wrong, but it wasn’t something I saw very often, so I never really acted on it. Back then, no one really knew about sexual identity and orientation, at least not at that age. I had one friend in middle school, his name was Geoffrey, and he was one of the only “out” people I had met at the time. I wasn’t sure what exactly he was, but he was definitely out. I remember him being flamboyant, and sassy, and how much he loved the Spice Girls. He had these pleather, knee-high boots that he would wear around school, and I freaking loved those boots. He moved after 8th grade, and I never saw him again.

High school was a whooole different story. Over the course of the summer, I had completely accepted that I was into girls, and was 100% fine with it. I never once felt shame. I never really told anyone, or felt the need to come out either. I mostly dated guys in high school, but never hid the fact that I liked girls, too. I was bisexual, and damn proud of that. I never experienced any discrimination, or anything negative from it, and I know that I got extremely lucky in that regard. Like I said, super liberal area.

I also met a lot of out kids when I was in high school. Trans kids, gender fluid kids, gay kids, lesbians, bisexuals, and people who fit into totally different categories that hadn’t really been established yet. When I was a freshman, I met a boy named V. V looked like a boy, acted like a boy, and dated girls. It wasn’t until I witnessed an altercation between a teacher and V, that I learned that V was a trans male, which I found really, really interesting. I knew that I found V attractive, but it was a little confusing. I ended up not liking him in the end anyway, because he was actually a huuuge asshole.

My first, real sexual experience with a girl happened when I was a freshman. It was with a girl that I had known for a long time, who was a good friend of mine. I had a massive crush on her, and we would sometimes get flirty with each other, but she always said she was straight. We had another friend, a boy, who really liked her as well, and one night, when we were having a sleepover and watching the Southpark Movie at her house, we ended up having some sort of threesome, that ended with our guy friend on the other side of the room, by his lonesome, because the two of us were way too into each other to include him. Oops?

After that, I dated mostly guys. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was because it was familiar to me. I definitely liked guys still, but after having my first taste (*cough* literally *cough*) of being with a woman, I honestly felt… addicted? Girls were all I thought about. I had been “out” for a while, by which I mean it was absolutely no secret that I liked the ladies, but I felt like there weren’t a lot of out girls at my school. The handful that I did know, were either not my type (yeah, I was picky), or were already paired off. Years and years later, several girls that I was actually very into back in high school ended up coming out, and let me tell you, it was crushing.

I came out to my mom my sophomore year. She didn’t really care much, because we just weren’t close like that. Literally the only thing she has ever said on the matter has been, “Really? Huh. Ew.” That’s it. It wasn’t the best response, but it wasn’t the worst, by any means. She never brought it up again, she never said anything when I talked about girls, or guys, or wanted to celebrate Pride, or wear rainbow clothes and jewelry. These days, I now know that my mom is actually super liberal, and probably would have openly talked about it more with me if I had tried to. But I was fine.

I had mostly “long-term” boyfriends throughout high school, but had a few flings with other girls here and there when I wasn’t in a relationship. I’ve always had a bit of a polyamorous streak in me, but I’ve always tried to respect my partner’s wishes when it comes to stuff like that.

I also co-founded both the Civil Rights Team, and my school’s GSA Club in my senior year, along with one of my best friends, who is straight, but boy did I fall hard for her.

Anyway!

When I was in college, I had a pretty liberal boyfriend, who wasn’t against the idea of be being with another woman. I had met another freshman girl, who was also bi, who I had a few excellent makeout sessions with, but who ended up being a manipulative psychopath who was only using whatever we had to try and make a guy that she liked jealous, after she cheated on him with another guy, and they broke up… it was weird, and I got out of that situation real quick. I ended up becoming good friends with that guy though!

I’ve always kind of joked that I like women more and men, and honestly, it’s probably true. I don’t know if I am just more picky when it comes to women, and that’s why I never settled down with one, or if in the back of my mind, I was just afraid, but I always seem to end up with men. Even though, in my heart of hearts, I know that men are the worst (calm down, I’m mostly joking), and women are the most gorgeous creatures on the planet. I mean, seriously, have you ever touched a woman? Anywhere? They’re so fucking soft!

Anyway. I’m not really sure where I am going with this, so we’re going to move right along.

About 5 or 6 years ago, I learned of the term
pansexual“. For those who aren’t familiar with the term:

pan·sex·u·al
panˈsekSH(əw)əl/

adjective
  1. 1.
    not limited in sexual choice with regard to biological sex, gender, or gender identity.
noun
  1. 1.
    a pansexual person.

I had never heard it before, and it didn’t really set off any bells at the time. It was just another inclusive word to add to my brain. Strangely enough, around this same time, I also started getting really into a particular porn star (yes, I watch porn, huge shocker) named Bailey Jay. For those who are unfamiliar with her work, Bailey Jay is a drop dead gorgeous, trans actress. She was the first ever trans person that I really felt attracted to. After some, shall we say, “research“, I discovered that I was actually very much into trans women. And trans men. And, well, pretty much everyone.

I was pansexual. I am pansexual.

I’ve never felt shame over this. Ever. Sometimes, it is easier just to tell people that I am bisexual, just to save myself from having to define and explain what pansexuality is, but it has never been because I was ashamed or embarrassed. It honestly doesn’t come up much these days, and while sometimes people are surprised when they find out (“Omg but you’re married to a man! What?!”), I’ve never had to deal with anything negative from it.

I’ve been in a relationship with a straight, cis man, who I love very much, for over five years now, but my identity remains the same. He knows all about who I am, and accepts and loves me. I am no less a pansexual now than I was before we started dating. I love who I love. I like men, women, and everything in between. My husband just happens to be a man. My husband and I also have an awesome little boy, and we often talk about his future, and what it may bring. One thing we both agree on, without a shadow of a doubt, is that whatever wonderful person our little guy grows up to be, we will love and support him 100%.

So, that’s my story! Not super interesting or dramatic, but I hope you guys enjoyed reading about it anyway.

I hope you are all having a fantastic Pride!!

Jan

Author: Super Jan

I am an exceedingly average humanoid who is trying to find where I fit in the world. Opinionated, slightly vulgar, and prone to crippling social anxiety. I am a gamer, retired podcaster, wannabe voice actor, newbie freelancer, Netflix binge-watcher, YouTube addict, and a mom just trying to do my best.

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