Following The Pink Path in Chapter 2 : The Elle Era
Revised: 01/11/2018 1:07 p.m.
- April 17, 2007, 4 p.m.
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- Public
This entry allows for you all to see into my past.This entry is here to help others. It is also here to help.To remind me that life could be worse.This entry is about realising and struggling with coming to terms with your own sexuality.
Once upon a time I was a normal 13 year old girl. I had a boyfriend who I loved very much.He was my first proper boyfriend which int urn led to my first proper date, my first proper dance, my first proper kiss and by the time I was 14 my first sexual experience. He took my virginity.I don’t regret that at all.I’m glad I lost it to him.I lost my virginity to someone that I can honestly say loved me. Not many people can say that. I wasn’t on the pill or anything, I was too scared that my mum would find out that I was having under-age sex. I was at school one day in PE and I was sat on the steps watching the PE teacher do a demonstration with my class when I couldn’t stop staring at her.I was noticing tiny little things like the way her nose turned up ever so slightly. How she had two sets of streaks in her hair not one set. How she had her belly button pierced with a turquoise stone. I found my PE teacher attractive. I had my first female crush. The next few weeks were hard as I struggled through them, I didn’t know whether or not I was feeling like this because my hormones were all over the place. About 12 months later me and Him split up. I was depressed about everything however the one consistency was that I was still finding the PE teacher attractive. I didn’t know what I was. I still found boys attractive so I couldn’t be gay. But I fancied girls so I wasn’t straight either. I eventually met some people my own age who knew their sexuality and they took me to a LGBT youth group one day and after going for a couple of weeks I thought I was Bisexual. For the next 3 years I went quite happily through life thinking that I was Bi. Then I left home. I started fancying boys less and less and was more intrested in girls, no not girls, women. I kept it to myself for another 2 years but fucked around a little bit. Last year I met Kel. I was with her for 8 months and she kind of helped me come to terms with tmy sexuality. It wasn’t until we split up that things changed. One night I was kissing a lad in the pub. I was very drunk. I was attempting to drown my sorrows and every little helps was my motto. My friends took me home and put me to bed. In the morning I woke not only with a hangover but also with a head full of regrets. I sat and thought about Todd and the more I thought about him and the previous night the more I started to click in. Even if I had gone back home with him I couldn’t of done anything anyway. I started to feel sick at the thought of sleeping with a man ever again. I’ve always found dicks ugly to look at. It was then that I realised that it was time to come to terms with the facts. It was time to admit I’m gay.That day I made a decision that will pave my life forever…I decided that eonough was enough I had runaway and hidden from my sexuality for long enough I was going to get out there and live my life as a young lesbian. Not long after I met Elle. I’ve never looked back. Coming out was the scariest thing I have ever done in my llife. I was terrified and horrified. I don’t regret it though.I’m happy now. I don’t cut or burn or drink too much anymore. I don’t have to take anti depressants anymore. I don’t have to go to counselling now.I’m happy now and all it took was admitting to myself who I was and what I was. I don’t care what my family think but I will protect them by keeping quiet for now. As for the rest of the world? If they don’t like it fuck them…it’s my big gay life!
Edit 2017 **
So…I’m a fully fledged lesbian. Still. Kind of. See, I’m also a pretty shitty person that when the inside of my head starts to spiral and I feel bad about myself or like I’m losing control of my life, then I wind up fucking guys. Whoops, we all make mistakes right? Nah. It’s not a mistake, I kind of know exactly what I’m doing as I lure them in and fuck my troubles away. It’s not the healthiest coping method in the world, and I don’t get pleasure from the actual sex, but the power trip makes me feel a bit better because my self-worth, esteem and image are so bloody poor that great satisfaction is reaped from seducing these poor saps in to doing my bidding.
I really am a horrible excuse of a human being sometimes.
Last updated January 11, 2018
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