I distinctly remember the first time I kissed a girl. I was young, and drunk, and did it mostly for attention but also just for fun. In the years that followed, kissing girls sort of became my thing. Usually, it was at a bar with my friends under the pretense of making creepy guys leave us alone but in reality was so other creepy guys would buy us drinks.
Say what you will, but that shit worked.
Still, just because I kissed a hell of a lot of girls, I never really thought about what it meant. I just did it thanks to my constant need for attention and my love of amaretto sours. It was easier to think that I was just drunk. Just obnoxious. Just a little slutty, and that it didn’t say anything about my sexuality. Sure, I liked boys. But did loving making out with girls after doing a body shot make me gay? Did it make me bi? Or did it just make me “me?” Someone who liked chasing her shots with attention until she actually became of legal drinking age?
I really had no idea, so I just did what we do best: I avoided thinking about it all together. Once I delved deeper into the world of psychology and sexuality, however, I came to a new conclusion — maybe there wasn’t an answer? Like Dr. Alfred Kinsey (this psychology brain from wayyy back in the ’40s) thought, maybe we all just fall somewhere on the spectrum of gay and straight, but most of us aren’t one or the other. We lean a little this way, a little that way, and our preferences ebb and flow are we grow and change and adapt.
So, considering that I liked kissing girls, had a big ass crush on Ruby Rose, and I always said I’d be down to hook up with a girl to see what all the fuss is about, leads me to believe that I’m not the straightest penis in the pants.
But, just because I liked kissing girls, I really really liked kissing boys. And, as life would have it, I never really had my big, ~experimental~ moment. I mean, sure making out with girls is fun and all, but I never dived head first into a vagina to see whether or not seafood was for me. I always enjoyed sausage so I figured, eh? Why try something else? Then, as fate would have it, I met a boy, fell in love, and that’s that. I couldn’t be happier to be with him, I truly can’t imagine being with someone else (I know, I know. I hate me too), and all of the other clichés rang true — he was my person
Something that happens with falling in love and living happily ever after, however, is that it usually means that crazy days are fewer and further between. Sure, you’ll still have some wild ass sex but it’s not with random people anymore. You don’t wonder if they’re going to call you back. You don’t have to put on a show each and every time because you won. You did it. The game is over.
So, as I’m settling down and spending more time building a life with someone and less time trying to trick someone into loving me, it’s occurred to me that my days of bragging about my feats over brunch are ending. I’m no longer the one telling a long, dirty story as my friends gasp and squeal in appreciation. But it’s not even so much because I’m tied down. It’s because, as society is becoming more tolerant, more and more of my friends are changing their Tinders from “interested in males” to “interested in females.” And do you know what trumps your story about having mediocre sex with the same guy? Hooking up with a fucking girl.
Now, before you think I’m a bitch (even though that is an absolutely accurate opinion of me), I want to make it clear: I. Could. Not. Be. More. Happy. About. The. General. Shift. In. Society. I think each and every person should not only have the right as consenting adults to be with whomever they love, but I also think people should have the right to figure out what and who they like. It’s something our grandparents and our parents never had. Hell, it’s something most of us didn’t have in high school or early college. But now, slowly, a shift is taking place and it’s not only okay to test out the waters of your sexuality, it’s even, dare I say, encouraged.
And the response? Is fucking phenomenal. Frat guys from college who dated girls forever are coming out as gay. Friends who dated guys are now dating girls. People are deciding to date and kiss and love the person and not just the stereotypical genitals they’re supposed to worship.
While all of this is happening, a tiny little selfish voice inside of my head is trying to be heard. I mean, I’m happy for my friends. I’m happy for society. I’m happy for myself, to be in a loving, supportive, passionate relationship. But as more of my friends branch out and test out both teams, I’m slowly wondering: Am I a prude for never having gone down on a girl?
I’m not saying everyone needs to lick a vagina to know whether or not they like it. But I’m also not not saying that either. I mean, just because the idea sounds unappealing to me, does that mean it’s really that bad? Every single friend I’ve had who went from P to V says it’s a zillion times better. It’s not so much that I want to do it but like, fuck. Why didn’t they tell us that back in elementary school when we started getting crushes? Why didn’t someone say that dating a girl would truly have its advantages and you might even be able to share clothes and sync cycles with them?
Ultimately, what this all comes down to is that, thankfully, finally, the world is shifting. Instead of our brunch conversations being focused on boys and penises, we’re now able to freely discuss who we like, what we’ve done, and how we’re finding ourselves (mostly) free from judgment.
It’s a truly amazing time in history, and I have to say, I’m absolutely humbled. As a straight-ish girl in a serious, monogamous relationship, my time to pipe up and talk about myself over champagne and eggs benny is over. Now the people who have been silenced for so long get the chance to speak openly and freely. Now they get the chance to be themselves. Now we all get the chance to find out what being ourselves even means.
Still, if for some crazy reason things don’t work out with my man, watch out ladies. I’ll be coming for you..
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