it's a new dawn, it's a new day…

I think that blogging has changed the way some of us write. It changed it for me. It made me think more about what people might want to hear rather than what I had to say. It made me wonder what people would be interested in, rather than what was on my mind or in my heart. It made me wonder what potential employers might think of me if they googled my name. It made me hide parts of myself just in case. You know, in case “they” found out. New colleagues, new clients, relatives, anyone who would look at me differently if they found out.

If they found out that I’m a girl who loves girls.

Oh, it’s not a big deal right? We’re all used to ‘gayness’ nowadays. Gays on television, in radio, in politics, in movies, in the spotlight. We’re getting used to seeing images of men with men and women with women. Plus, gays and lesbians have far more rights now.

It’s not without struggle, however. I’ll have to come out in my new workplace at some point. From past experiences, that has been a big deal. Doctors always assume I’m straight – “are you sexually active?” yes. “any pain when the penis enters?” I’m a lesbian. “Oops”. Men who think they can convert you. Family members who secretly hope that one day, you’ll change your mind. It’s just a phase.

And then, there’s the shit to deal with within the ‘gay community’. “You’re not gay enough”. So what kind of things do you like? “Gay novels, gay films, gay clubs, Ani Difranco”. Right. Got any other interests?

I love women; I don’t care what that makes me. It’s my sexuality, it’s part of my identity, it doesn’t entirely define me. It’s simply my truth.

So let’s put politics and stereotypes and cliches and gossip and “should be’s” and “shouldn’t be’s” aside – in fact, throw them all out. Let’s just get back to that one thing that matters the most: love. Simply, love.

I have built walls before. I have built walls because like any other girl, I have insecurities. Unsure about this or that. Embarrassed and ashamed about something. Not good enough. Not pretty enough. You know them. We all have them.

One of the first nights she slept over, I had a dream. She was peeling the layers of me until she got to the core of who I am and I woke up. I guess that’s when I knew.

I loved her. And then, I found out that she loved me too. She loved me! Me! Me with all of my faults and flaws and fat and imperfections. And she loved me anyway.

But she didn’t want to.

Because sometimes a girl loves a girl and has never felt that way before. And all of a sudden, the image of that perfect wedding dress and tuxedo she’d picked out in a catalog in grade 8 just starts to fall apart. The white picket fence around the house full of kids, the smell of cologne, his razor, His and Hers towels. Hers and Hers? It doesn’t make sense. Any of it. Let’s just be friends ok? Let’s just be friends. Let’s just bury this somewhere because.. I can’t do this. I don’t want to be… this. I don’t want to be your girlfriend.

Dig.

Ok.

Sometimes a girl loves a girl and has felt that way before. And what was buried a while ago just resurfaces. Did it ever go away? Do you love me? Yes. Yes I do.

And even if a girl loves a girl and has felt that way before, it’s still too hard. And sometimes it has nothing to do with social pressure, nothing to do with loving another girl but everything to do with love itself. We build walls. Over time, we let people take them down, we rebuild stronger ones and then later, we just don’t care anymore. We don’t. As long as some little part of our logical plan in life is fulfilled – getting married, having kids, having a secure job, whatever – then who cares. As long as the person we’re with is tolerable and cute and decent in bed, doesn’t really matter if they take the time to know you. Besides, you get used to hiding. Hiding is safe. And then you meet someone who tears everything apart, and it’s intense and wonderful. But not wonderful enough. Not intense enough. Not allowed. Because no one else can break the prisons that we lock ourselves in.

I’m a girl who loves a girl who loves me back. But she doesn’t want to. And that’s why my heart hurts.

I write this because there are others like me and others like her. And sometimes love isn’t conventional at all. We easily make assumptions about the people around us. We think the couples we know are happy. We think the pretty girl in the room might be interested in us, when she’s really interested in your sister. We think the girl with the short hair is definitely gay – surprised and dismayed when she’s not! We think you have to love one or the other, not both. I will say only this: Fuck it.

We might only have the opportunity to fall in love with one, two or three people in our lifetime. Love happens rarely. And it might happen in the most unimaginable way possible. It might even happen with someone of the same sex. You never know. But the saddest thing that can happen is to try to frame and justify and sketch rules about who or what or why. Don’t. Just don’t.

Just love.

Because that urge, that feeling in your heart?  It won’t go away.  But you may never find it again.