The news that I’m Bi was a shock, even for myself. I can still remember that first moment when my heart ached for another female. I was ten and on the bus to summer camp. She had dirty blonde hair, big brown eyes and a smile that lite up the room. Or maybe it was really the sun glare, who knows. The feelings I had deep inside are the same feelings my best friend gets for Channing Tatum; that quivering, automatic ovulation, take my money, forget my husband feeling.
I never forgot her, but I thought it was wrong, not “natural”. Oddly, I had no control over that feeling, so wouldn’t that make it “natural”? Who knows, but twenty years later and I’m slowly starting to come to terms that my sexuality isn’t cut and dry (thank god!). If I could turn back time I would have kissed her or sneaked a second (third, fourth or four hundredth) glance. I would have fantasized a life with babies and drama filled love stories with her starring opposite me. If I could turn back time, I wouldn’t have made so many mistakes, but mostly I would have realized sooner that I would have been ok with admitting I’m Bi-sexual.
So if I learned anything from the endless hours of summer camp, besides the words to Kumbaya, it’s that being myself may actually take a while. After all I now have Wednesday nights, Tinder and bars to satisfy whatever itch comes out.