I’ve never been the kind of person who suffers questioning their sexuality. Since I was a little kid, it was completely normal for me to find Misty from Pokemon, just as hot as Ash. Plus, I don’t usually go around overwhelming people with dramatic stories of my love life, so I’ve never heard phrases such as “wait, you’re seeing a woman?! OMG, weird” or “but that’s not normal, right? teehee”. Besides, I can’t deny I’ve been brought up in a fairly “tolerant” environment, or rather, diverse. Because even though I had classmates who acted like actual primitive apes fighting to the death for their territory, I could also find other people in my year group who were more open minded and never judged me. I guess I’ve been really lucky, and I never really stopped to think if the person I want to be with should be a man, woman, trans, or whatever, because to me it’s completely normal to love anyone, despite what ‘defines’ their sexuality. Because of this, it’s not hard for me to forget how intolerable people can be, or how much it hurts to me called “abnormal”. A month ago (more or less), I was reminded of this the hard way (let me be dramatic this once).
The story begins about seven months ago. Last year during September. I had just switched my major, and was starting to feel more comfortable in the new environment- meeting new people, enjoying classes, I was even studying! Coincidentally, my parents were out of the country for whatever reason. Obviously, I took advantage of the situation to have a party at my house and meet my classmates in a more relaxed context. I invited as many people as I could.
Because it’s a small major (in terms of student numbers), people from different year groups than mine arrived, including a new “friend” who I’d seen just once before, but we had so much chemistry, we already treated each other like “besties”. Let’s call her Misty (to honor Pokemon). We spent most of the night together. Because of the drinking, the night included hugging, crying, deep conversations, and a kiss. I didn’t think much of it, because I was worried trying to keep the house from burning, and well, because alcohol can be tricky. The next day, when we were already sobered up, Misty was the last one to leave, with another friend of mine (lots of people crashed because I live far away, and alcohol told them it was a splendid idea), and she asked for my number before she left. That’s when our potential friendship turned into something else. We started flirting through text messages and at university.
After a couple of days, I found out she had a boyfriend (Ash). She’d had a boyfriend for almost two years. Two years. What the fuck?! I didn’t know what to think. I was angry at her for acting that way if she had a boyfriend, but I told myself it was a one time thing (thanks a lot, alcohol). Besides, there’s nothing wrong with flirting. Things wouldn’t happen again between us.
I was wrong. I was “the other girl” for six months. SIX. There were rumors, but we always denied them. Ash hated me, and Misty and I both knew we should stop, because it was the “right thing to do”, but we never did stop. We used alcohol as an excuse, (I suppose it was our guilt-freeing device), but we were completely sober more than once. We’d say we liked each other, we’d hug, kiss, hold hands and talk about anything and everything for hours. We were like a couple, without actually “being” one.
Every once in a while, Misty got these “confusion attacks” and she would just distance herself from me without any explanation whatsoever, just to come back a couple of days later confessing she did it because she wanted to be faithful to her boyfriend and she didn’t know what to do with the whole situation. I never pressured her, because I understand how hard it can be for some people to come to terms with having a relationship with someone from the same sex. Plus, because of this tug-o-war, I was constantly trying to deny my feelings for her, telling myself I did it just because I had a good time (pfft,I couldn’t even convince myself of that). Denying my feelings was my way of protecting myself, because if she’d been with Ash for so long, and she wouldn’t let go, even after lying to him for months, there were two possible options:
1) I was her “lesbian experiment” and her true feelings belonged to Ash.
2) She was scared of taking a risk because she liked a woman, and she would rather stay in her comfortable and familiar place
Either way, I couldn’t win.
One day, Misty told me she was breaking up with Ash, because she couldn’t take it anymore- she couldn’t deny her feelings for me, and because she cared and respected him, she had to do it. They broke up, and we spent a night together talking about it. It seemed as though this time was for real, and Misty looked great, as though an enormous weight was lifted off her shoulders. Obviously, I was as happy as a clam, but I was also incredibly happy for her- she was finally able to overcome her confusion and admit there’s nothing wrong with loving a woman.
Once again: I was wrong. The next day (Sunday), she stopped talking to me abruptly. On Monday, she arrived to uni holding Ash’s hand and she greeted me as though nothing had happened. She basically rubbed it all over my face.
Needless to say, I was crushed. I was left with my open arms, without an explanation. Now she barely looks at me, and won’t even come near me if I’m in a small group of people, just to avoid talking to me. I remember, more than once she told me “I don’t like women, I like you” or “I’m not like this, but it’s you”. At the time I thought it was cute (maybe a little cliché, but still). Clearly, it was her way of denying our relationship and her possible lesbian tendencies. Since ‘it’s not normal’, she tried so hard to deny it. Because of this, I can’t help but feel discriminated and undermined (oh, let’s not forget stupid for letting it happen). Despite everything that happened between us, and all the things she said, I still doubt if she ever really liked me or if I was her teenage lesbian experiment all along.