This might sound awful, but not having to struggle with my sexual identity anymore is a huge relief. And part of that is because it’s the socially accepted sexual orientation. I don’t have to worry about my mom resenting me because I can’t give her grandchildren the “traditional” way, I won’t have to worry about judging glares from homophobics if I go out with my significant other in public, and I will never have to worry about fighting for my rights to be with the person I love. 

But just because I’m straight doesn’t mean that I don’t realize how heart-wrenchingly difficult it is for those who aren’t straight to be who they are. I’ve seen it first hand. Being in that kind of relationship made me see not only how intricate and complex human sexuality is, but also how simple it can be. Some girls just really love girls, but it’s really hard for them; hard for them to get others to accept them, sometimes it’s hard for them to accept themselves. 

I feel horrible for attempting to experimenting with my sexual identity using another person, especially because I wound up being straight. I thought I was doing the right thing; it’s 2012 and I should be allowed to experiment with my sexuality if I want, right? That’s my right as a woman, right? But this wasn’t meaningless sex, at least not to her. I was just seeing what happened, but she, who had much earlier realized that she was a full-fledged, pussy-lovin’ lesbian, was much more emotionally invested. Because dammit, she wanted something real. She wanted someone to reciprocate these feelings that were so difficult for her to have. Because, according to so many politicians, clergymen, and media figures, she wasn’t allowed to have them. 

But despite my eventual realization that I am a heterosexual woman, I left this relationship with a newfound understanding of the pain and hardships of homosexual women.