#whichever one it is. that's gonna be a big day for the tumblr shitposters

[polygondotcomvideoproducer]

what if misha collins had been a staffer for obama instead of clinton. what then

[blazeeblake]

And Now For Something Not SPN-related...

Apparently it’s National Coming Out Day (not trying to snark, I’m just always blindsided by whichever “day” it is and maybe even a little surprised that it’s something significant and not a food-related nonsense thing), so here goes and I hope I don’t sound like a douche...

There’s a kind of duality to my identity that has often presented an option to blend into my proximity to a lot of normative or majority spaces. I have, of course, never taken that route, either because of a fierce love/defense of my identity and heritage, or because of a sheer inability to actually present as anything else. That said, my sexuality has been a little bit more of a complex issue for me [*big flashing duh*] and it’s only been very recently that I’ve been able to really process and accept things about myself that I probably would have picked up on if I hadn’t been the one so deeply entrenched in the experiences.

My earliest crushes were on members of either gender, but I chalked a lot of the same-gendered ones up to just really wanting to be friends, and the devastation of parting ways for various reasons to nothing more than me missing a good buddy. As I got older, I may have gotten an inkling that some of the feelings may have meant more, but an inexplicable spell of an almost total absence girls I was interested in, and a ridiculously long, heteronormative, grade-school “relationship” kind of set any burgeoning sensations of otherness on the back burner for a long time.

When I was a teenager, I had a few intense (and really bizarre given my upbringing and support systems) moments of what I can only describe as gay panic, and ultimately worked myself over it with the just-shy-of-a-cop-out reasoning that I would love whoever I loved and would have me back. This was an easy and safe enough notion to land on and it saw me through well enough, especially when a battle with unrelated (yeesh I hope so anyway) anxiety and depression and medical issues held the bulk of my attention through to my early 20s.

When I met my the man who would one Day be my husband, I pretty much decided that there wasn’t really a question of my preferences anymore and that I could leave it at that.

It wasn’t until years later, very secure in a communicative and healthy relationship with the same man that I was really well and comfortable enough to address the other side of myself and accept that loving him completely and implicitly did not erase this other half of my attractions, and a handful of more years to accept my earlier dismissal of it, and that not having extensively explored it didn’t make it less valid or untrue [not to say it wasn’t explored at all but that’s a whole different bucket of worms that I’m not gonna kick over in this already over-long post].

TL;DR: I’m bisexual, and I have been for a long time. It literally changes nothing about how my life is or is carrying forward, but I saw a thing and decided to out and out [ha ha] say it instead of shitposting on Tumblr.

The more you know.... 🤷🏽‍♀️