Category Archives: Uncategorized

I have about 8 partial blog posts in my draft folder.  I have never been that person…the one who starts posts and then drafts them to finish later.  So I’m pulling them out and putting them here.  Unfinished.

Draft 1.  Written December 24, 2013.  I think my thoughts changed directions midblog and instead of changing this post, I saved this one and started a new one.

It’s been 4 years since I told my parents I was gay.  I was about to leave my husband and seek a divorce, and I felt like they deserved to know why.  I couldn’t hide it from them.  I was beyond nervous because I didn’t know what their reactions would be.  I had psyched myself up for a complete and total rejection and that’s not really what happened.  They were hurt and sad more than anything.  I get that.  All of a sudden I wasn’t who they thought I was.

I let my parents tell my siblings because I was emotionally drained just from talking to them.  I didn’t have the strength to say it all again and again.  My brothers were both silent on the issue.  I think they didn’t know what to say so they just didn’t say anything.  My sister told me I was sinning.  She said that I knew the truth and was turning my back on that truth.  She said that she wouldn’t be able to see me or fellowship with me because that is what she felt God was leading her to do.  It was an emotional time for me, but I certainly didn’t want to force anyone to do anything they weren’t comfortable with.  Heck, I wasn’t even really comfortable yet.  I needed to figure out who I was.

I was seeing someone at the time of my divorce, but I never told anyone.  If anyone asked about her, I called her my friend.  Because there was a bit of an age difference, it was believable.  Mostly though, nobody asked about her.  My kids knew her as my friend, and my ex-husband knew her as my friend, but truth be told, nobody else even knew her.  I kept her hidden in that closet that I was slowly venturing out of.

During this time, I also found myself avoiding all of my old friends.  I figured that they probably wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me so I saved myself from rejection by avoiding those who could hurt me.  Most people didn’t know what happened, just that my husband and I divorced after I left him. I got a couple of emails and Facebook messages from various friends and the message was either one of friendship or one pointing me to my sin.  I didn’t know who knew and who didn’t so I didn’t trust those offering me their friendship.  I was certain they would change their minds once they found out I was gay.  How could they continue to be friends with someone who went from being a Christian to being gay?  It didn’t make sense to me so I went out of my way to ignore them.  If I saw someone I knew in a store, I quickly turned and walked the other way.  If I couldn’t hide from them quick enough, I smiled and made pleasantries until I could make an escape.

Two years after I came out to my family, I ended up coming out to a couple of people at work but only because I was backed into a corner.  I was terrified that I would be ostracized once everyone knew, but that never happened.  The people I told never treated me any differently, and as far as I could tell, they never told anyone else.  Later I was brave enough to share that I was gay with another coworker.  She, too, accepted me and kept quiet.  My girlfriend at the time brought me lunch occasionally and participated in a few work functions but nobody ever said a word.  I heard that people wondered behind my back, but I was never treated like I was less than.

Around the same time, my kids discovered that I was gay.  I was extremely worried about their reactions.  I was their mother.  I felt like I already had a precarious relationship with them because I was the one who left their father.  We shared custody, but I was scared that they would decide they would rather live with him than me.  I knew that the courts had set up a schedule, but since we lived so close to each other, we were mostly just winging it when it came to where they spent their time.  I didn’t want to have to force them to see me.  That would have killed me.

And now here it is 4 years later and I feel like I’ve come so far.  I didn’t realize that the coming out process would be such a long, arduous task.  I didn’t know that I would have to come out over and over.  I never anticipated all the situations I’d find myself in.

I wrote this 5 years ago on my secret blog.  I found it interesting…

Questioning your faith really is exhausting work.  I don’t recommend it at all.  It’s like taking a trip around the world with no plan.  Where will I stay?  What will I see?  Who will I meet?  How long will it take?  And what will home look like when I get back?

A couple of days ago I was riding in the car with one of my kids.  We were flipping through the radio stations when we hit the local christian station.  My kid commented that the song was a favorite so we listened to it.  I don’t remember what song it was, but I do remember how it made me feel.  Comfortable.  Familiar.  Like putting on a favorite pair of old shoes.  Then I wondered why in the hell I am questioning if I feel that way about my faith.  I guess when we wear out our old shoes it’s time to acquire a new pair no matter how much we hate to do it.  So maybe I’m searching for an updated model of the same timeless, classic style.  Or maybe I need to go with something completely different.  

Yeah, I don’t recommend this.  I’m sure when I’m done, if I ever get done, I will look back and be thankful for the trip I had to take.  But right now it sure would be easier to just put on that old pair of shoes take a walk around the block.

Wow…

Just in case you were wondering…I went with an updated model of the same timeless classic style, but with a twist.  

Every day I open a new window to type a blog post, but I hesitate because I tend to want to wax poetic over my new relationship with every word I type.  I know you guys have to be getting tired of that!  (But oh my gosh…it is so good!!)  So I close the blogging window and then stare at Facebook and do the same thing.  I’m not at a loss for words anymore, but I don’t want to make people sick with my love musings.  (Seriously…I am so lucky to have found this girl!!) So I end up not saying anything about anything.  Until now…

So…let’s talk about sex.  

During my entire married life I never had much of a sex drive at all.  I never thought about it really.  I laughed and joked with my friends about all the sex they were having, but I never really cared about actually having it myself.  Of course I had sex.  Before I was married even.  But even then I didn’t want it.  Once I was married sex with my husband was always ok.  Nothing big. Just sex.  It’s not because he didn’t try to make it something big and special either.  He did.  I just wasn’t ever interested.

We were married for a long time before I ever had an orgasm during sex.  Of course he didn’t know that though.  And I had orgasms.  Often even.  Let’s just say I was well-versed in the art of going solo.  To be completely honest I preferred going solo to actual sex.  So I guess maybe I did have a sex drive…it just wasn’t connected to him, or anyone else for that matter.  I just figured I was somewhat broken in the whole sex with someone department.  I didn’t want it, need it, or care to have it.

I remember when we were getting ready to go overseas.  We had to take personality tests and job skills tests and psychological profile tests.  One of the tests had several questions about sex.  I remember being a tad bit uncomfortable.  I wasn’t sure how to answer them.  On one question I answered that I thought about sex too much.  My husband answered it the same way.  When we were being counseled our adviser brought up that we both answered that question in the affirmative and wanted to know if there was something kinky going on.  We were both a tad bit embarrassed.  I had only answered it that way because I felt like I was constantly trying to figure out how not to have to do it.  Of course I didn’t divulge that information.  My husband was thinking the exact opposite.  He wondered how to get it more.

Then I allowed myself to fall in love with a girl.  Everything in me was totally turned on by everything she did.  Hell, she didn’t even have to do anything, and I was on edge.  Just seeing her and hearing her voice.  All of it totally and completely turned me on.  I had never experienced anything like it in my life.  I loved how it made me feel.  Of course if you’ve read my story at all you know we had a year long emotional affair that culminated in a week long physical affair.  It was my first experience with a woman, and it changed me.  For the first time I understood what wanting someone in that intimate way felt like.

After the physical affair the issue of sex in my marriage reared it’s ugly head.  I had managed to avoid kissing my husband the entire week of the affair.  That wasn’t even planned.  It just happened that way.  And now here we were and he expected a little more than just kissing.  How in the hell was I supposed to have sex with him when I had just experienced something that far surpassed anything I had ever felt with him?  It was impossible.  I managed to avoid it the first night because I was tired and sick.  The next day I knew sex was on the agenda.  I knew there was no getting out of it.  Because I really was sick it was a quickie, but it was still sex.  When it was over and my husband had fallen asleep, I just laid in my bed and cried.  I was forever changed by my experience with a woman.  Before her I had sex with my husband because I knew I was supposed to.  He needed it.  It was ok.  It was never great.  I always preferred quickies with little to no foreplay.  I didn’t care if I had an orgasm or not.  I did it for him and him alone.  After the affair it was different.  I still did it because I knew I was supposed to.  It was never great.  I still preferred quickies with no foreplay.  I couldn’t handle all the pressure for it to be great so quick was the way out.

And I have never been a fan of sex in the light.  I like darkness.  I just do.   Pretty much my whole married life I would push away any love-making efforts made by my husband during the daylight hours.  Of course there were times I had sex during the day; it just wasn’t the preferred time at all.  Daytime sex meant I had to pay attention to the looks that crossed my face.   I knew that I often look bored, frustrated, or indifferent during sex.  I always had.  And after the love affair I’d had with my friend, there were many moments of extreme sadness and tears during sex as well.  I didn’t want my husband to have to witness that.  I’m sure on the rare occasions we had sex during the daytime the look on my face was one of concentration.  I wonder what he thought of that.  

In my first relationship after my husband, sex was big.  It was the first time with no guilt involved.  I wanted it more than I got it, but it was such a new thing to me.  To even have that desire.  I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.   And it was always in the bedroom and always in the dark. 

In my last relationship, things started out ok, but very little effort was put forth by either of us as far as sex goes, so it became more of a chore than a pleasure.  And I don’t say any of that to dis her.  It was what it was.  And the darkness of the bedroom was the rule there as well.

And now…everything is different.  Bedroom, living room, kitchen.  Standing up, sitting down, or in bed.  Day or night…light or dark…it doesn’t matter.  But oh my gosh the light!!  I love being able to see her face and have no worries about what looks cross my face.  I don’t even think about it.  And I love to look at her…make eye contact…and see her feelings written on her face.  It is a beautiful thing.   I get great pleasure from watching her and touching her.  I can’t even put into words how it makes me feel.  And to give complete control to someone else is also amazing.  To be able to trust her fully with no thoughts about anything and then to have my mind blown is just…WOW.  

And it’s not just about the physical aspect of sex.  We will sit and stare at each other for endless moments.  Just looking.  Memorizing.  Feeling.  The deep connection and love, coupled with being able to physically enjoy each other, just threw me for a loop.  I had no idea what that felt like.  

I feel blessed.  Lucky.  And so very thankful.  To borrow her words…she is a game-changer and I love her.

So I snooped…and this is what I found.

Oh my gosh…I’m in love!

Yesterday, I wrote a blog post that was triggered by a thought written by a virtual stranger on the internet.  By one word in that thought actually.  And what I ended up writing was in no way close to what was on my mind concerning that word, but it was the beginning of a story that could include that word someday.  I ran out of time yesterday morning so I wasn’t able to bring the thought, the word, and my thoughts together into something complete.  Today, I am gathering my own thoughts again to try and finish what I started.

So it’s been a month and 6…wait…7 days.  A month and a week.  I can’t even explain my feelings about it all.  I can say that it has been the easiest month and week I’ve ever had at the beginning of a relationship.  The first couple of weeks I was a little unsure of where things were headed, but it was still so easy.  I knew I liked her, but I had been so confident that my decision to not date anyone right now was the right decision that it threw me for a loop.  I knew she liked me, but it was hard to know what was going through her mind exactly.  She had lots of thoughts.  I could see them pass by her eyes.  I am usually a pretty good thought seer, but like me, she needed time to think them before she could voice them so I wasn’t ever completely sure.  I guess, since it’s only been a month and a week, I should still be saying that I’m not sure where things are headed.  It is still early.  But the thing is…I know.  She’s voiced some of those thoughts.  She’s heard mine.  I know she has more to say at some point.  I’ve seen it.  And I can imagine it.  And despite it only being a month and a week, we are headed towards the word that triggered this post.

Now let me start at what should have been the beginning…

Yesterday, I was reading the Facebook page of a stranger friend.  She is gay and has recently started dating someone.  I say recently, but in all actuality it might have been 6 months already.  They are living together and in her update she said something about plans she had with her “wife” over the weekend.  And that is where I stopped.  I was surprised to see her using that word.  Wife.  Such a HUGE word.  They aren’t married.  They haven’t had a ceremony.  And I know it takes much more than a ceremony to add meaning to the word, but it just hit me the wrong way.  I hear that word thrown around like it’s light and airy.  It’s attached to so many living together situations where it doesn’t actually belong.  Now I totally get that it’s the prerogative of the person using the word to attach whatever meaning they want to it, but for me it is a sacred word.  One that comes with a lifetime of commitment.  Not one that goes with every committed monogamous dating relationship.  Even those where you’ve moved in together and have plans for a future.  There has to be a point where it becomes the right thing to say.  And moving in together isn’t that point for me.  And lesbians seem to be the worst about using it flippantly.  If you ask heterosexual couples who’ve lived together for less than two years, but have not had any kind of commitment ceremony, I would venture to say they don’t ever use the terms husband and wife to refer to each other.  They just don’t.  They are boyfriend/girlfriend, fiancees, partners maybe.  But husband and wife are terms that are usually reserved for either long term live-in couples or for after an actual wedding ceremony.

My ex used the term wife to refer to me on occasion.  I was never comfortable with it at all, and at no point did I ever refer to her using that word.  She was my girlfriend.  Plain and simple.  After we moved in together I added the word partner to my vocabulary.  I did feel that since we were living together it automatically upped the level of relationship.  But at no point was she ever my wife nor was I hers.  Early on there was talk of marriage.  It always made me uncomfortable, but I never said so.  The fact that I let her believe that I was completely on board with that idea was terrible of me.  I just wasn’t ready to get married.  I didn’t know if I would ever be ready again.  With my first girlfriend, it was the same.  I wasn’t ready to make that kind of commitment to anyone.  I had failed the first time I tried it so I couldn’t bring myself to make that kind of promise to someone else.  Someone I wasn’t 100% sure about.

It’s been 5 years since I left my husband and 4 years since the word wife was an appropriate moniker for me.  I’ve dealt with the fact that my marriage failed.  I accept responsibility for it.  I’m not sad over it nor do I feel guilt over it anymore.  I understand that for me to be who I truly am, I had to leave.  And now I am different.  I’m not the same girl I was 5 or even 4 years ago.  I’ve had my heart broken into a million pieces and had to pick myself back up from the depths of despair.  I’ve gone through a major life change and learned to stand on my own two feet.  I’ve been in two significant relationships which both taught me things about myself and what it is that I want and need in a significant other.  And I’ve learned how to recognize red flags.  That is important.

When I met my husband, there were no red flags.  Not one.  Yes, I had been secretly attracted to women, but because I was raised Southern Baptist, it wasn’t even an option for me.  And I was madly in love with him.  He was perfect.  We were perfect.  At 19, I knew I wanted to marry him before I ever even officially dated him.  We even joked about how alike we were and that we should just get married a full year before we started dating.  After two years of dating we tied the knot.  It was the summer I turned 22.  I loved being his wife and couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.  I put aside any and all feelings I had about girls from the moment I met him.  It was only when we went overseas that those deeply buried desires came back up and I had to face them head on.  So for 12 years of our 19 year marriage there was never even a thought about it.  I’d say that’s pretty good.  And for last 6 years we lived together I fought myself over being gay on a daily basis.  Because I was his wife and I loved him.  I truly did.

With both of the lesbian relationships I’ve been in, there were red flags from the beginning.  I saw things that I knew would be a problem, but I thought I might get over them.  I tried to push aside the red flags and see around them to a future somewhere.  I just accepted that things might not be perfect and lived with that.  In both situations, I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t ever say with certainty that I was where I was supposed to be.  I knew better.

And now I am here.  In a month and a week long relationship that has taken my breath away.  I’ve looked hard and analyzed it from all angles and I can find no red flags.  None.  How is that even possible?  How is it that she seems perfect for me?  I’ve asked myself that question over and over.  But in the end, it is what it is.  She is perfect for me.  I can keep asking and looking and digging and concentrate on finding something wrong or I can embrace the amazing thing that it is.  I choose to embrace it.  And while I have no idea what the future will look like exactly, I know where we are headed.   It’s been mentioned some, but because this is so new for both of us, we’ve tread pretty lightly.   But for the first time since my divorce I can say with complete certainty that I will get married again.  That’s huge for me.  I never thought it would happen.

And the best part…not only will I be a wife again someday…for the first time ever, I will have a wife.  You guys…you have NO idea how crazy it feels to say that.  I can’t help it though.  The word bubbles up and has to be said.  Wife…wow.

The past month and a half has been most amazing. It’s one of those things that I can’t even put into words. I know that’s quite obvious by my lack of blogging. Well, I’ve blogged, but much of what’s been put here was once written for another blog. I read back over that stuff and decided to repost some of it just to keep this place from becoming dormant again. But as far as new words go…I’ve been so full that I’ve not been able to speak. It happens. Today, I seem to have words so I’m writing. We’ll see what comes out.

Candied Jansen and I have been “official” for almost a month and a week. I use the word official in quotes for a reason. My 14 year old started calling Candied my girlfriend almost from day one. Day One being date number one where we met for a late dinner on January 25. The day before Valentine’s Day my daughter asked if Candied had asked me out yet. I was so confused. Of course she had…we’d been on several dates. January 25, February 1, February 7 and we had plans to see each other on Valentine’s Day as well. She went on the explain that she didn’t mean dates, she meant were we official girlfriends. I reminded her that she’d been calling her my girlfriend already. I told her that I didn’t think people in their 40s officially asked someone to be their girlfriend. She seemed quite frustrated that my line of thinking didn’t match hers so she carefully explained her position to me. We needed an official date that Candied and I became a couple so there was an anniversary date to celebrate. It was important. I was texting Candied at the time telling her about our conversation, and she ran with it! She said she could officially ask me the next day or we could pick one of the other dates as the beginning. After a few texts back and forth and some adorable nerdy math on her part, we decided that Feb. 7th sounded like a good date. I told my daughter who seemed satisfied with our choice. A week or so later, Candied was at my place and tagged our 1 month anniversary on my refrigerator calendar. My daughter was on month 4 with her boyfriend so it was completely appropriate to mark our date on the calendar as well. The best part is watching the 14 year old simultaneously think it’s cute and disgusting. I love that!

So fast forward a couple of weeks to March 7. One month down. I’d spent the night at Candied’s place the night of the 6th so sometime after midnight she wished me a “Happy One Month”. Totally cute. I went to school feeling quite happy about the whole thing! During lunch that day, flowers were delivered to the school for me. I know I turned all kinds of red in my brief confusion as to why I was getting flowers. My teaching partner has met Candied so she was all over the fact that she sent me flowers! The card accompanying the flowers was very sweet, and I pretty much floated through the rest of the day.

So it’s been a month. A month and 6 days…and counting.

Something I wrote several years ago, but it still rings true about me today…

1. i am not a verbal processor. when i try to say what i am thinking before i have had a chance to think it through it comes out all wrong. i say what i don’t mean to say. my words might make some sort of sense to the person hearing them, but they aren’t ever what i mean. i have learned…most of the time…to keep my mouth shut until i know what i think and feel. sometimes i don’t, and i always say something stupid, make a mountain out of a molehill, hurt someone with my words, or embarrass myself. sometimes all of the above. shut up, natalie, shut up!

2. i am stubborn. if i don’t want to do it no amount of begging or bribing will change my mind. i might change my mind. my circumstances might change. my feelings about the thing i am being stubborn about might change. i might decide to do what i stubbornly said i wouldn’t. but there is nothing anyone else can do to make me change my mind. (i know…this isn’t really a good thing.)

3. i listen hard. – to people – i want to know what they are thinking. i ask that question of those close to me often. what are you thinking? and then i remember almost every word they say…replaying conversations in my head so i don’t forget them. (i do sometimes have trouble remembering what i say though…it usually seems trivial compared to what others have said to me) – to songs – i will listen to a song over and over just to hear the way the words go together. i look up the lyrics so i can be sure to understand what they are saying. and i wonder about the one singing the song. if they really feel the words coming from their mouth as much as i feel them as i hear them. – to life – in my own world some sounds have just faded into the background because i am so used to hearing them, but when i am away from my normal i hear everything. the birds, the wind, the sounds of life happening all around me. so i sit back and listen taking it in.

(i fully expect comments or emails from those who i have not paid attention to…not listened to. i know you are out there! and it wasn’t that you didn’t have something important to say…my mind was full? maybe…)

once upon a time i had a pedometer that had a reset button in just the right spot so that every time my arm moved past my hip i reset the darn thing. so i moved it to the middle of my belt and leaned on the counter to wash the dishes and reset the darn thing. then i moved it to a spot almost in the middle of my back, and when i tried to pull it off to see what it said i reset the darn thing. i’m sure the hissy fit i threw over the darn thing burned more calories than my actual walking did.

A few weeks back I took the Myers-Briggs personality test.  I scored as an ESFJ.  I’d also taken this same test in 2001, but I don’t remember what my results were.  I do remember that they were right down the middle.  Earlier today, I was perusing an old blog and found that I’d written this post in March of 2009.  Totally cracked me up!

I just took an online version of a similar albeit much shorter Myers-Briggs test and these are my results.   

Words excite me. What words mean and how we use them to get our point across is thrilling to me. The way the right combination of words makes me feel is something I have trouble putting into my own words. I am often at a loss for words. I know this may seem surprising to those of you who’ve heard my unending vomit of the mouth at times…but it’s true. When I’m in that state I feel completely unable to use my brain to form sentences that make sense….like someone has opened my head and is stirring my thoughts with a long-handled spoon…making them go round and round, mixing them up, until you can’t distinguish one from another. That feeling is overwhelming…a word I use a lot. I could say overpowering or mind-boggling, but I like overwhelming. It engulfs me…ooooh…I like that word, too!

Sometimes when I am so full of that overwhelming feeling, I ramble or chant or make lists.

I’m not looking but my eyes are wide open…and then…anticipation of an event originally planned 2 1/2 years earlier.  So I see, and watch, and observe, and wonder.  And smile.  Lots of smiling.

And more.

unplanned, unrehearsed, unabashed, unbelievable.

Road trips and rocking chairs.

anticipation, adoration.

The way the right set of words makes me feel…

stunning, thrilling, moving.

adorable, comfortable, remarkable, desirable, pleasurable, incredible.

stupendous, marvelous, fabulous.

eye-opening, breathtaking, heart-stirring, mind-blowing, spine-tingling, out-of-this-world.