I never saw my sexuality as anything that was connected to kink. I knew that I was into BDSM and identified as a submissive of some sorts far before I ever started questioning my sexuality. But funnily, it’s through the start of a D/s ‘relationship’ that I finally admitted and acknowledged to myself that I am a lesbian, which happened somewhere around when I was 16 or 17.
Am I Bi, Perhaps?
When I turned 16, some kinky and BDSM related sites finally became officially accessible for me, as some ask you to be 16, rather than 18 to enter. Having known that I was into BDSM for years while being unable to do anything with it, now suddenly being granted access was exciting. Or, perhaps more liberating, than anything.
I created a profile in which I didn’t have to lie about my age, lols, and said that I was a submissive woman that was bi.
By this point, I already had a small coming out to myself in that I admitted that I might like both girls and guys. This had happened because my online (female) friend had a girlfriend and I had asked her about this, curious. She talked to me about it and it started becoming more normal for me. (To clarify, I didn’t think it was weird for any people of the same sex to date, but it felt wrong to me if I personally would. This is very common amongst people that struggle(d) with their sexuality.)
I hadn’t told anyone else though because I wasn’t sure if I was right. I guessed that I might also like girls, but what if I was wrong?
Anyhow, I created this profile on a BDSM site and specified that I was bi. I secretly hoped that I would find a dominant woman though I still thought that I was mostly straight. I told myself that I had only made my profile bi because I knew I could potentially like both.
(Side note, this is a horrible advertisement for people that identify as bi. There is this massive misconception that people who identify as bi do so because they haven’t been able to make a choice yet, which is kind of exactly what I did, although unknowingly, but this is not at all what it means to be bi or to identify as. I was just very confused.)
This won’t be surprising to any of you, but of course, I got a response from a dominant man instead of a woman. There are far more dominant men looking for submissive women.
When he messaged me I felt a small twinge. Can I do this with a man?
Yes, you can. You’re bi. He’s a dom who lives near you and who doesn’t appear to be a creep. This is all you’ve ever wanted! I flicked the switch in my brain and went back to being convinced that I was straight.
In one of our first conversations, he asked me about my sexuality and how I felt in that regards. I have absolutely no idea what I told him or what we talked about anymore, but I remember that I kind of vaguely knew that this might not work out because of my… so far still suppressed sexuality. But after we talked about it, I never thought of this again.
We decided to try things online first because it’d be less scary and perhaps a good way to ease into it. He told me about his ex and I told him about my fantasies. He was so nice. He was so caring.
I remember sitting in class with our laptops (media degree woo) and receiving a message from him. My heart was pounding. I can remember the exact layout of that classroom and the people in it. When I got the message, I glanced around the room feeling ecstatic. I wanted to jump in the air and shout something like ‘yes!’ (which by the way is truly not something I’d ever do) because I was so happy that I was finally speaking to someone who understood my desires and who might be able to help fulfil them, and I’d be able to help fulfil his too.
And finally, this person and some of the sites were no longer telling me that I was too young. I was allowed to do this.
He helped me try out some new things, such as candle wax of which I never knew I was quite afraid until he suggested trying it. And as I was close to dropping that first wax on my palm (just to try it out) I realised that I liked this feeling of fear. Then when it actually touched my skin I felt a rush of adrenaline in response to the quick burst of pain that disappeared very immediately again too. I knew then that I love candle wax.
Once he gave me the task to write a story in which we would meet for the first time. I hate writing these things for people. I hate doing it, but back then I was still willing to try my best so I got kind of into it. I remember picturing the parking lot and myself standing there awkwardly. I can’t remember exact details and I never read it back. I was very embarrassed.
The point I’m trying to make is that I started trusting him. We were having a good time and had nice conversations. Like I said before, he was really nice and cared a lot.
It was exciting. I was thinking about how we could meet. It would be quite easy. To give you an idea of how close we lived together (we did live in different towns), we each went to a different school, but the buildings were connected so we had the chance to run into each other nearly every day, really.
Apparently I nearly ran into him once on my way out of the school building. I think I fabricated this memory in my head once he told me this because I can see myself dash out of the door but I never see his face, so I can’t imagine that I was actually aware when it took place?
But then the more I started thinking about meeting up, the more confusing it started to become. I felt unsure about meeting up because I wasn’t sure how I would respond to him… I didn’t really know why. Everything felt safe and good the way we had been doing things. I wanted to fulfil my kinky desires and the only way to truly do that was by actually meeting and actually…
I decided to stop thinking about it. Maybe I just needed some more time?
I had told him about a few of my curiosities and desires, although I cannot remember what they were back then, except for one that I recently remembered. I remembered expressing the desire of wanting to be tied to my bed at night and at some point he suggested that we could do this. I’d just have to find a few scarves, which I could tie to my bed and then tie myself to or something. I can’t remember the exact logistics.
I found scarves in one of my mum’s boxes and let him know. We decided on a night and he helped me set it up by texting me as I was doing it.
I Can’t Do This.
What happened afterwards is very vague to me. All I know is that I started thinking and freaked out very quickly after having tied myself up. I remember thinking about how I couldn’t do this with a guy. I can’t do this with a guy, is what repeated itself in my head. I started breathing more shallow, tears rolled out of the corner of my eyes and I didn’t know what to do. How could I tell him? I felt so guilty. Why couldn’t I just be normal? I finally found someone to do this kinky stuff with. He was so nice. But I couldn’t do this with a guy.
I untied myself and have absolutely no idea what I messaged him, but it must have been a message full of panic and self hate and it night have possibly said mean things or something in an attempt to push him away? I’m pretty sure we didn’t speak for a while after that, though he was very worried and wanted to help in the best way he could. He tried to do everything to reassure me.
After this happened I took some time for myself. I didn’t just accept that I was a lesbian after this. All I knew was that this wasn’t feeling right because he was a guy.
I actually don’t know how much time passed between this instance and the morning in which I woke up and randomly thought: you know what? I’m a lesbian. Just like that, I suddenly knew.
Admitting this to myself changed my life. For years I had been feeling like I was incapable of loving because there had been so many nice boys in my life that expressed a romantic interest in me and I couldn’t like any of them. But when I acknowledged who I was, I could look at a girl and feel that feeling and it felt so incredible. I don’t think I have any other feeling to compare this to. It still makes me so happy.
Living Out and Proud
After waking up that morning I told some of my online friends instantly and they all responded positively. I told my friends close to home one by one, feeling nervous each time because… you know it’s scary, even if you know that they will respond positively.
2 weeks later I told my parents as well, and eventually, I told my entire football team, which was no less awkward than all the other coming out’s I’d done. But I’d made it ‘official,’ I was a lesbian now and then I started thinking: shit, what if I’m making a mistake? What if I turn out to be bi or straight after all?
Well, don’t fret dear reader, I am definitely a lesbian. Quite happily so too, might I add.
Though, while everyone responded positively, I still struggled with fully embracing myself over the next two years. It continued to feel awkward having to come out, or not come out because of not wanting to shout it around everywhere. Not because I wanted to hide it but like… straight people don’t come out all the time so why should I? I stopped doing it. People find out once they become close enough anyway! (Though my friend has and I have often joked that I should cut and dye my hair. Soz, stereotype much.)
When I stopped coming out, everything became more natural and normal. I stopped being different or something. I was just me and I am great.
Looking back, I know that I had felt an attraction to girls since the start of my teenage years, but I had repressed it as soon as I became aware of this. I can’t really tell you why I’m gay. I think I theoreticalised an explanation around my coming out year, but I can’t remember and I honestly don’t care. How do you know you’re straight? You just know and feel it, don’t you?
It’s difficult coming to terms with your sexuality in a world where straight is the norm, and anything other is sometimes still seen as wrong. But then once you do, it’s incredible. It was for me. Self-love is very underappreciated and I love being out and proud because I now love myself for who I am and so should you.
Ps, yes I am still friends with him and we talk frequently!
If you are looking for queer fiction, have a look at my extensive list of LGBTQ+ fiction.