I started going to a discussion group for coming out students sponsored by my university, at first unsettled to be the only black person in the group. Then I met Kariann. A music and computer geek, she was the softball butch type, a Jewish American princess from Laguna and I fell deep and hard into my first real relationship…which lasted 13 days. We went to see The Matrix at a preview screening and my girl’s insistence that the movie sucked kinda turned me off of her. I was also still feeling attracted to men which caused me great confusion. I didn’t know what to do, but I felt calling myself a lesbian wasn’t right. I came out to Kariann as a bisexual, which she didn’t want to hear. To be fair, I asked her to sit with me in a private room and then I told her to face the wall because I couldn’t look at her. Then I told her I was bi and wanted to break up with her. Little did I know that THIS WAS THE STEREOTYPE of bisexuality. I’ll always be really sorry that I insisted on trying to put on a brave front so she couldn’t see me crying. That day I began to understand what it meant to hurt someone for no other reason but selfish pains.
I fell in with a ton of gay boys after me and Kariann broke up, started going to raves and dropping E. Did that about 5 times, before giving up due to low serotonin levels just making me feel ‘normal’. But I enjoyed the gay boy lifestyle, till I realized I kept on getting called a fag hag or fairy queen when bitches were being nice. I really hated not being recognized as who I was, but I couldn’t ask anyone…when I didn’t know. So I settled for being in love with my best friends for the next couple years.
Of course I also had a nasty little habit of sleeping with regular old run of the mill gay men. What began as a drunken fun excursion soon turned into it’s own trip, leaving me beyond unsatisfied.