Folie de Mars

I thought about posting something supportive on social media about National Coming Out Day, but decided against it, as I felt like it wasn't appropriate to take a single shred of spotlight from my LGBT friends and relatives. I'm a CIS female with an exclusive attraction to CIS males. There are no exceptions. To be absolutely blunt, I think boobs are ugly and vaginas are absolutely repulsive. I don't want to look at them, much less touch them. So needless to say, I'm straight as a damn arrow. I know that surprises some people who have carried misconceptions of me, but I've never wavered from this. After my divorce long ago, I visited a tiny message board called AVEN, which is of course the Asexual Network that is now pretty huge. It was just getting started back then, and I showed up only to ask questions about asexuality because I wanted to understand it. My friend Melly announced that she was asexual, so I asked her if I could get the opinion of her network of friends as to what I should call myself, as I was (still am) practicing non-religious celibacy. The community was great, and we all agreed that I was in fact fully heterosexual, but that I was simply not participating in sexual activity. The ending label, if I need such a thing, is hetero-non-sexual. I suppose that's just a fancypants way of saying I'm straight and abstinent, y'all. Whatever works.

I didn't grow up with many LGBT acquaintances in my small, hyper-religious, ultra-conservative town. I knew a few classmates in junior high school, but even then, it wasn't something that was acknowledged or spoken about. In some cases, it was flat-out denial. I understand why. It was easier for them to pretend they weren't gay, because they were surrounded by ignorance. In middle adulthood, it's nice to see those classmates living their full and best lives. I admit I've been in the dark about these things, having grown up drinking the charismatic kool-aid of non-denominational church life. The church people raising me were the people who stood on the side of the road with signs condemning abortion and preaching against homosexuality with fire and brimstone, citing that gays were corrupt, perverted, and a danger to society. I'm honestly not sure I believed it...I frequently questioned my church and got in trouble for it, but these are the words and actions that I was regularly subjected to and persuaded to acknowledge was right before God. It wasn't until I ventured out into the working world and the college world that I became exposed to so many different, sometimes interesting people. Some of them were jerks, and some of them were cool, but I learned something from all of them, so I think that's what counts.

Over the years, I've been watching my young friend Sarah pursue her career goals while trying to figure herself out. She's a highly emotional and sensitive person, a thinker, and a loyal friend to everyone. She has no problem telling people that she loves them live in person in the most public of places. She's clearly an empath, but she is also a badass who gives zero fucks if you don't fully support her. I, for one, do. Because I know that young woman, in spite of her being Atheistic and super gay, is darn near a carbon copy of the kind of person I was at her age. Sarah has taught me that as different as we may seem in some unimportant ways (sexuality, religion), we are far more alike than not, and that's more important to us than anything else. From the day I met her, I fully denounced the terrible, ignorant notion that LGBT people are unsafe, because I immediately knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was bullshit, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise about my dear friend Sarah. She came out publicly on October 11th. I told her she is one of the best people I know. And I meant it. She told me she loved me. And she meant it. That's friendship.

My cousin came out after a rocky teen life. He moved to Kansas, obtained a hot boyfriend, started wearing rainbow everything, and has never been so happy. When I saw the coming out photos, I raised my fists in the air and cheered. He was finally free. I love him to infinity, and I will always fight for his human right to love that hot boyfriend.

One of my writer/gamer friends turned out to be trans - something I was utterly unfamiliar with even in my late 30s. I was somewhat confused (still am), but I carried on in my (sometimes overbearing) ways as usual, as I wanted to be a decent friend, and that was that. There were no questions, because they simply weren't necessary. I've realized that I sort of adopt people whether they give a shit or not. I've always been this way, and I've done this to so many (thanks for not hating me, people) since childhood. I don't know if it's a character strength or a character flaw. It's just how I roll. Although I can't frequently get my health together enough to spend time with everyone (who are spread out among multiple states), I'm proud to have a diverse circle of acquaintances. I think it's one of the best parts of me.

My niece is in college now, and she is currently in questioning mode. She honestly doesn't know who she is yet, sexually speaking, and that's ok. She's a brilliant medical student who is going to be a Psychiatrist. She makes the family insanely proud. Whatever becomes of her self-discovery, I'm here for her, and thankfully, so is the rest of her redneck Alabama family. Hope for humanity: check!

So I didn't want to make a long-ass social media post on October 11th talking about how *I* feel about the LGBT community. It's not about me. It's their day. It's their lives. And if I could go back to that old non-denominational church right now, I would look at the man behind the pulpit, and at the perpetually-offended holy-rollers in the audience, and I would happily tell them that it's not about them, so just shut the hell up and let people live.

As for me, straight-as-an-arrow girl, I remain abstinent, but I've had a man on my mind for quite a long time now. In fact, I can't stop thinking about him, and I'm to the point that I very much want to be his friend and know him better. He's sweet, attentive, and way too gorgeous for me, but I have to note that this is the first man I've had a potential romantic interest in, I suppose, in over a decade and a half. This feeling - or whatever it should be called - it's changing me. I think I'm an idiot who is thinking way too hard and wishfully about this, but I'm allowing the what-ifs for now. Perhaps someday, by some miracle, I'll be blessed to find that the what-ifs have become what is.