June 21, 2015

When I Met You, I Found Me. (Hey, I’m not Hetero)


Author’s Note: This blog goes out respectfully to the women who have lived a life of loving men, but whose search for their own truth has lead them into the arms of a woman. I applaud your courage, and your journey into the unknown.

I fell in love with her.

I did not mean to, but she walked into my life with such beauty and grace that my heart was stirred the second I saw her.

At first, I was intrigued. I followed her with my eyes.

She was tenderly present, in the way only women can be, her inner loveliness spilled out and surrounded her every move.

Surprised at my feelings, I searched my heart for what had lain dormant for years; my body humming with desire, my soul thirsty for a chance to live a more authentic life.

What right did I have to explore this now?

What explanations would need to be given for my sudden fall into this delicious abyss?

I was afraid, and ashamed of it. Should I care that so much of society still balked at anything but hetero love? I wanted today to be the day that I said, “F*ck it! I need what I need.” I needed to be honest that after all these years of pretending, I barely recognized my own truth.

With a fast beating heart I decided to leave it be. This was craziness. No one would understand.

Then she smiled at me and I, throwing caution to the wind, invited her to share my table, coffee cup trembling in my hand.

“Hello,” she said, and my world blew up around me. Nervous, hesitant, electricity spinning invisible webs around us, I smiled back and let my heart fall.

Loving her is like loving the whole world.

Women embody all that is—all the secrets of the universe live inside a woman’s soul. Everything that breathes is because of feminine magic. I wanted to experience that; it was my destiny.

Instinctively, I knew that what I felt gnawing at the pit of my stomach since the first time a girl had landed an innocent kiss on my teenage lips was screaming to find release.

This was one of those pivotal moments when I could choose love over fear.

Her voice twirled around my ears in softly lilting tones, her hands, slender and strong, left me aching for her caress, her wisdom when she shared it filled my starving mind.

Where have you been, sweet sorceress? How has your magic escaped me until now?

I allowed my fear to wash over me, and then I surrendered. I let her in. I let myself out.

Conversations turned to walks through the city on warm summer nights, warm summer nights turned into love we made by candlelight.

My body awoke to the intuitive way she knew what it needed, her touch a dream I wished to never wake from, her mouth on mine like a sweet candy that one hopes will last forever.

All those years of living a lie were swept away by her fingertips.

She understands me at my core. She fills my days with endless possibilities. She loves me like no other.

We endure the stares, the disapproval, the sometimes uncomfortable family gatherings.

Bravely we hold tight to our love and our knowledge that only by facing our fear will change be possible. If we don’t do this, someone else will, and their fear cannot be lesser than ours.

Probing, disrespectful questions are left unanswered. Any support we encounter we bank like hungry squirrels for a cold winter night. Slowly, we make our voice heard. At first in our own circles, then in standing proud with others. This is our road now, the road to acceptance.

I will not give her up. Not ever.

I will drink her—mind, body and soul. I will take what she gives me in pleasure and delight in the way she enjoys me. I will feed her desire for a woman who is endlessly her lighthouse on a stormy shore.

I fell in love with her. I did not mean to, but loving her has felt more right than anything else before.

She is mine and I am home.


Relephant Read:

Help! There’s a 16-Year-Old Lesbian Trapped Inside Me & She Wants Out! {NSFW}


Author: Monika Carless

Editor: Emily Bartran 

Photo: Flickr, Flickr

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