Strange optimism

I got back from spending another wonderful and amazing night with Cat. As usual, I have a whole lot of stuff to process.

The biggest thing is that I am absolutely, definitely a lesbian. I’m still struggling to come to terms with that, to be honest. But I can also no longer pretend at all that I’m somehow attracted to men. I mean I still miss some things about them (even their bodies) but I just can’t do it anymore.

That meant that I had to message that guy I met for the date last week and tell him what was going on. And granted, that’s not going to come as a big surprise because I had told him that I’d really been trying to come to terms with my sexuality lately.

But still, he wanted to see me again and to take our relationship to a sexual level. The “old me” would have had sex with him, not really enjoyed it, and told myself that everything was fine (even though it obviously wasn’t.)

So I guess that’s major progress that I’m not selling myself out so easily anymore. But it’s also kinda bad because it means I’m hurting other people in the process, which I hate doing.

Last night Cat and I were in the middle of an almost ridiculously lengthy sex session and at one point, I told her about my first sexual experience with another girl. I was 10 years old, which seems kinda shocking now. Then I demonstrated on Cat what I had done with that girl when I was 10.

When I was 10, it was still pretty innocent. We kept all our clothes on and I just basically dry-humped her because it felt really good. (I have to say that it feels even better as an adult without clothes on. 😉)

J always believed that my early sexual experience was because I must have been sexually abused by someone. And I swear to God that I really, really don’t think that I was. His awareness of sex as a kid was much, much different than mine, much more unhealthy. I really think mine was just age-appropriate sexual exploration.

But for so long, I really bought into his belief that someone had damaged me in that way and I just couldn’t for the life of me recall it happening. Now, I doubt that I ever even was abused at all. I’ve asked my parents if it was possible and asked a childhood friend who knew me well and none of them had any recollection of it happening to me.

That makes me wonder something else though: what if he was wrong about me in other ways, too? For so much of my adult life, he was the lens through which I looked at the world and myself. But maybe he didn’t know me as well as he thought he did. Maybe I accepted his views, particularly of me, too uncritically.

That brings up another thing that’s really weird, too. Both Cat and I feel very strongly like something really big and really good is in my future. We don’t know if that’s related to my career or money or both or if it’s something else altogether. But she feels it super strongly and so do I and I can’t figure out what that means. We talked about it again today when we were both 100% sober and it was still true.

I’m also failing to keep up with my new freelance assignments as well as making time for more introspective writing at Medium. I have several posts I want to write there and just can’t find time.

Everything feels so exhausting lately and I just need to sleep through most of a day to catch up. But I can’t because I’m not letting myself. I really have to find a way to do that because I think that if there is indeed something good (nebulous though it may currently be), it’s probably going to be on the other side of this aching and desperate need for sleep.

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