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[undertonesofwind]

The Hopeful Beginnings of Self-Discovery

Perhaps this platform will not provide me with what it is I desperately need, that of which is an outlet to express the darkest and most secret components of my truest being. Nonetheless, I am here in pure earnest hoping that my conscious is wrong in its doubt. I enjoy the animosity, as it has been a great struggle for such a long time to even gather enough courage to think, much less, write out my deepest thoughts and feelings for my fearful eyes to bear witness. 

I write in fear. In terror of admitting that of which I find to be most dreadful: my truest self, the part of my being I purposefully suppress when it dares threaten to intrude my reality. I won’t let it! I have for years refused, to a varying degree of success. 

In my earlier years of adulthood, I was more carefree as to let this entity explore the realms of my reality, taking joy in all the liberties of honest self-expression. But as time grew on, I permitted the world to cast shadows of doubt upon my true being of existence, and, thus, banished it to the outer-most boundaries of my soul, where no one could touch it, not even I. I barred this version of myself, ugly in its unashamed sincerity and destructive nature of my perfectly peaceful, heteronormative life. I allowed this part of myself to be consumed by the dark void of shame, the shame of which tells myself, “These feelings are utterly and disgracefully unnatural! You must dispose of them to cleanse your soul so it remains pure!” And as a result of carrying this darkness inside of me, I do feel impure. Utterly filthy. I will never be normal, so my soul will never be polished and spotless. I will always be contaminated, because I will always love women.

I am not a heterosexual. To be quite honest, I don’t think I ever was. Perhaps in my youth, before I was exposed to elements of queerness or properly recognized them, I enjoyed the life of a heterosexual girl, feeling flutters of excitement within the adventurous company of the boy next door, imagining fascinating fantasies of being saved by a knight in shining armor atop a shimmering steed, and, of course, dreaming of my wedding day in which I say, “I do,” to a perfect, well-groomed and even-tempered gentleman that would love me for all eternity. Such thoughts of youth are beautiful in their innocence, even if they are short-lived and regrettably native in nature. However, they are treasured memories, even now, and those that I enjoy reminiscing about every now and again, for it’s relieving to relive the sentiments of such simpler times when now I struggle so deeply with my own self-identity. 

I am currently in a heterosexual relationship with a cis-gendered man. We have been together for quite a long time. In fact, our five-year anniversary is just next month. I do love and adore him deeply. And my passions towards him are just as strong. Not many are so lucky to have someone by their side for so long. Thus, despite our ups and downs, I am eternally grateful for his loyalty, companionship, and love. However, with that said, I can’t help but admit that not all is right in our relationship, as there will always be a missing component that his heart cannot fill. It is with great remorse that I express it, as it feels like an unforgivable act of betrayal on my part to not only acknowledge but to openly reveal it: He will never be a woman. He can never love me in the ways that I sometimes so desperately crave. That is not to say that I do not yearn for his affections. I certainly do. But there are times, infrequent, yet frequent enough, when I long so much for a female lover. And that is something for which, regrettably, he will never be able to provide. 

As I mentioned previously, for quite some time I did believe myself to be heterosexual. Even within a part of that time when I did hesitantly question my sexuality, I was very well-versed in the ability to suppress the unwanted and dangerous thoughts containing non-heteronormative ideas and eroticism. But such days have longed passed. As an adult, I have become well-aware of my sexual passions in its entirety. I have fully come to accept my feeling for men and women, although my doubt and insecurity regarding my desire towards the latter party is still something I must learn to overcome. And for this very reason I have chosen to write this extensive personal dialogue. I am utterly tired of having to hide my true self. I despise myself for concealing this wonderful part of me that does justice in representing who I really am: a confident, unabashed creative woman who dares to adventure in both love and life. And as it stands right now, I am miles away from becoming that woman in any respect. But if I am able to reach out to my truth within, perhaps it will illuminate my soul, and I can finally live my life in full sincerity. Perhaps releasing my sexuality from the binds of shame, resentment, and guilt will let me free and give me unrestricted access to joys that were previously confined and untouched. I don’t know how I will fare on this journey of self-discovery, but I hope there will be a light at the end of the tunnel, a light whose rays will shine pure truth and happiness upon my life.