Who I am

When I was a little girl I loved going to church. I didn’t always go with my mom or siblings, most times I went by myself. I remember being like 6 years old, and my mom would call the church van to pick me up, and she’d get me on the van and send me to church, but she wouldn’t go with me. It wasn’t always like that some days she’d go and currently she goes to church while her children don’t.

Between the ages of 5-8 I attended this one church and I don’t recall understanding much, but I loved to sing and worship, and knew Jesus died on the cross because he loved me. Around the same age I began to develop romantic emotions. I remember I use to think some little boys were cute, but I’d also think the same thing about little girls. Now, from going to church I also understood God created Adam and Eve for each other, and that meant that we were suppose to be the same way. Marry a man if you’re a woman and a woman if you’re a man, so I ran away from those feelings and tried not to pay them any attention.

Things didn’t work out that way. I don’t remember if I was 6 or 7, but it was around that age where the “thing” happened. I haven’t really told many people this story, but here it goes. I lived in this small apartment complex and I had a few friends, and three of those friends were these 3 sisters that lived in apartment number 8. We all called them “las niñas del ocho” I thought they were my friends but looking back they were just bullies. Every time I had something cute and new, they’d find a way to steal it from me, but because I was a dumb child, I was still their friend. There mom was hardly ever home, and I imagine that’s why they were the way they were. One day I was at there house when they asked if I wanted to play a special game. Me being the dumbass kid I was just went along with whatever they said.

The “game” they wanted to play became the “thing” that happened to me. All three of them began to touch and harass me. I really don’t want to go into detail, so I’m really going to leave it to your imagination, just know I ended up naked and with a hickey on my neck. How was I going to go home, at the age of 6 or 7, and explain a big ass hickey to my mother? I left their apartment feeling scared, dirty, gross, and more than anything confused. I didn’t understand what had happened or why it did. I got home and my mom was both furious and confused as to why her small ass child had a hickey on her neck.

I didn’t stop being their friend, but I also didn’t hang out with them much, but that triggered something in me.  Was it okay to kiss a girl? After the “thing” I had other encounters where I kissed other girls and as I grew up, I experimented what it was like to be with a girl, but remember how I had always gone to church? Well I grew up going to church and as a teenager I went to a Pentecostal church. To me they were the most conservative branch of Christianity. I grew up learning that homosexuality was bad, and anything that had to do with it was all condemned to hell.

In my mind being anything but straight was a sin, and if I identified as anything but straight, I was going to go to hell. I struggled with myself for several years. I hid it from everyone I could and tried to suppress my feelings. Every time I felt remotely attracted to another female, I felt guilt, shame, and frustration. I always tried to fight it and thought to myself “If homosexuality is so bad, and is condemned to Hell, why does God allow us to be gay? Why won’t he take this feeling away from me?” And being the church girl, I was I remember praying and asking God to take the attraction I felt for other females away. I would fall asleep crying because I was told that I was going to go to hell because of the way I felt.

Sometime between the ages 19-22 I decided I didn’t care anymore and if I was going to go to hell might as well enjoy it. I changed my Tinder profile to “interested in men and women” and had a few adventures with both genders. I met up with a few women but still felt uncomfortable so it didn’t move on too much past dinner or drinks. I still felt dirty and wrong, so I would check women out, but wouldn’t make any moves. I hadn’t labeled myself, until after I was married.

A few weeks after I got married, I told my husband about my adventures with some females, and he asked me “have you ever considered yourself bisexual?” I said no, and explained why. We continued to talk and that was when it happened. For the first time in my life, with the help of my husband, I felt comfortable with Who I am.

I hadn’t told many people, and I haven’t opened up about it with my family, but with Pride Month just ending here it is, my official coming out.   

I am a happily married bisexual women.

“And I can't change, Even if I tried, Even if I wanted to…” - Mary Lambert