From the End to the Beginning

I think I always knew when I was young that I was gay.

(haha, what a way to start this off)

No real shame in admitting that. Some people it take years, decades even to even get a glimpse of what their lives are meant to be like. I managed to nail it by age fifteen. So that’s 2005. I am a millennial, so sorry baby boomers and Generations XYZ….I make no apologies about my generation because blaming me for when I was born has no real ground in my book. I’m pretty sure the generations before you were just as opinionated about how you poorly behaved. You probably even convinced yourself that they’re only catching you at a “complicated” moment in time. Not who you really are the majority of your time. Regardless, showing respect is important. It lacks in all generations and of all lives it seems. One should always respect those who came before and you honor them after they’ve gone. You guide the new generation to be better then you were.

If there is one thing I do often, its tangents. I’m sure I’m not the only one, right???

I always knew I was gay because I saw men and was like, “Damn!! Notice me! Hey booboo!!!” I’d cat call these attractive men in my mind. Fearing that if my facial expressions or body language ever gave away what I was thinking about these surfer’s. I’d either get a weird rejected look, or probably made fun of or called “fag” or “queer”. Aaaaahh, such amazing word choices. I joke but they had a profound power over me and who I was. I grew up in Southern California, surfing was my weekend hobby and get away with my parentals and older sister. I had a pretty normal life or so I thought. Never really knowing what I was, I assumed it was odd because like most things in life, that people observe. If it’s not popular…you don’t advertise you like it. For years I couldn’t recall why I ever came out to my mother and I viewed my mother as the All-Mother. Everyone loved my mom. I think it was because they never really knew her real crazy. They were the fortunate ones.

Regardless of how my mother was, my story only really manifested itself at 26 years old. Because the end of the year is approaching and everyone is filtering out what their New Years resolution should be. Making sure its not too far of a stretch from what accomplishable but still seeming like it’s a “big deal”. I sit here writing thinking that there is no real resolution for me. This year was intense. It seemed to drag on and tear away at my soul day by day and no matter of a new calendar year will take that away or change it. Have you ever done something in your life that you truly regret? Has it had such profound repercussions that you don’t even know what’s worth living for? I have. Trust me when I say, it wasn’t just a learning experience, it was a life experience. There is a subtle difference between those two experiences, but a difference none the less.

I cheated on my boyfriend of 3 years. It was in the early stages of our relationship and I was young. Stupid doesn’t even begin to come close to what I was. Regardless, there you have it. My terrible awful was that I cheated on the greatest man I have ever met. I never told him until recently. I am sure most people would be like, “why did you even tell him?! It was so long ago!” Well, no one ever plans emotions. No one ever gets to have a reasonable logic for themselves. It’s just right, all the damn time. Even though it probably isn’t. So as I drove to my job, I had an intense moment of guilt and desire to come clean as one does after a 3 year relationship comes to an end. My life went down hill from there.



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