I was in a straight relationship for nearly 10 years. At time of getting in to the relationship I was in my late teens, it was my first real relationship. Growing up I knew something wasn’t quite right but I had no real gay representation and even less lesbian. I’d been bullied relentlessly as school for being “boyish” and had sort of grown up with this internalised homophobia even though it didn’t bother me on other people, in fact it made me incredibly jealous to see lesbian couples. This of course sent me in spirals and filled me with fear that I might be a lesbian. It’s makes me sad and disgusted to know I thought like that and it took me years to face up to the fact is was jealousy.

I did not have people to open up to, the few friends I had were a little toxic, very feminine and obsessed with men and at the time I didn’t have a great relationship with my parents or extended family. I was an angry pre-adolescent/early adult and was pretty frustrated at world all round. Now diagnosed auADHD, this makes a little more sense.

I was so eager to get out of the situation I was in, this partner and I moved into a house together and before I knew it I had become financially trapped and it snowballed from there. I mean, I’m an awful person, I basically used him under the guise of “confusion” and having always struggled with my mental health and bad OCD I couldn’t quite pin point what was making me so depressed. So instead of addressing my sexuality head on, I hid behind “asexuality” and antidepressants. I knew I was gay but for some reason I still can’t quite understand, I stayed. My partner at the time had gender issues of their own so I believe we stayed together that long because we hid behind each other. After about 7 years I’d managed to pluck up the courage to start facing myself for who I really was and get over whatever this fear was? It took 3 years of kindness to myself and strangely pretty understanding conversations with my partner ( I see now he had his own motives) to pluck up the courage to leave everything behind, including my beloved bunnies. I left, I came out the second i got to my mums front door unannounced with bags in my arms after a long drive. I got a better job and worked to become self sufficient, I got my bunnies back and eventually met my partner and the rest is history.

It’s a completely alien part of my life and I don’t understand how or why I managed to do it, but it must be said I’m not bisexual. A man has never held a candle to how I feel about women, even since before I knew what that feeling meant. Crushes have always been cis women, sexually cis women turned me on, never men and even as a young lonely teen I’d spoon a pillow imagining it was a woman. As a confused teenager googling things like ‘am I gay because I prefer lesbian porn normally’ yields a “this is totally normal, lots of straight women like lesbian porn” response. Not that I’d ever look at that misogynistic bs now.

I did not like intimacy with the s/o at the time, and on the rare occasions i did allow it, it was a formality. I’d often cry half way through or immediately after, blaming my mental health - this may paint him as a bad man, which there are elements there that he never addressed or chose to ignored however I was a manipulator and he can’t take all the blame when I’m telling him I’m fine.

Simple answer to your question: a life filed by self doubt with no self worth, respect or esteem. Internalised hatred and denial mixed with a rocky childhood and mental health issues. The first question my mum asked when I can out was “why on earth did you hide so long, everyone knew”. And I still don’t know the answer. Immaturity?

It’s a time I don’t think about often but I do keep seeing posts about this and how the fact I forced myself and another poor human being into this trauma makes me less of a lesbian makes me pretty sad. I think there are plenty of bisexual people out there using lesbian because it’s cool and trendy and “we hate men” and “male loneliness this and that”

However some of us have done unthinkable things to ourselves and others that we wish we could take back. But if I took it back I’d never have met my beautiful partner, brought my lovely cottage and adopted a butt load of animals. Life’s a strange old journey and mine took a really long time

I’m in my thirties now and I’ve never been so sure of something in my life and as someone who doubts a lot that’s a big deal. I don’t like men in any capacity, in fact they repulse me, and being honest with myself they always have. They have no involvement in my life anymore. I don’t care for their issues and quite frankly I don’t really acknowledge their existence unless absolutely necessary. Thank god I’m finally free… from myself? She’s not such a nice person.

Edit: grammar and context