To be on not to be - in therapy

I’M GAY!!!!

Well by now it isn’t the big surprise, but I just found out, that I probably have been gay all my life. I had settled for bisexual (leaning towards women) a few years back (and finally came out to my family last year), but I never went along with the whole gay thing….

Recently (as in little over a week ago) I got a new carpet for my living room (no, that’s not the gay part…) and I had to move all my furniture out. One of the things I had to move was this cupboard/closet thing and I found my old diary. Back from when I was around 12 or 13.(Maybe I should add that I recently had picked it up at my parents place but not had had the time to go through it yet).
Anyway. I have previously mentioned my huge (gigantic) crush on my English-teacher. This was the evidence… As I read the pages I felt the butterflies again, but all of a sudden I came to some pages about something that I had totally forgotten. At least some of it - well most of it. (I think the word is repression).
Apparently (and now I’m just guessing – it was not written in my diary) my crush led to the fact that my school thought I needed to see the school therapist (or counselor or what ever you call it)!?! So I did. And after a few weeks of therapy I did indeed need to see a therapist!

We talked about school in general. Then we talked about my family (that didn’t go exactly like she planned – I come from a very functional family). And eventually we got to the BIG PROBLEM.

My English-teacher. Or rather my crush on her.

Let’s call her Simone (just for the fun of it – in honor of another hot teacher).
“Simone’s afraid, that you might have fallen in love with her.” It was not a question. And it didn’t sound like it was okay. It sounded more like it was punishable by death. So of course I responded: “No. No! I’m not!” And at the same time it felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown at my face. My therapist could not have helped but notice that I was lying but she smiled and said: “Then all is good.” As I wrote in my diary: “I don’t even remember how I got through the rest of the session” (which was the final one)...and “My life is ruined”.
The next day I wrote in my diary: “Maybe it’s time to start liking boys.” Followed by a drawing of a sad face.

Maybe the fact that I never really got past the first date with most boys should have been an indicator? And that it wasn’t till I met the guy that's now my ex-husband (thank G_d) I ever slept with any (guy). And that fact that I never really enjoyed it anyway… Don’t worry I won’t go into details. I’ll just leave it at this. But…
I guess I’ve always felt like something was missing in my life. And admitting to myself that guys just don’t do it for me… It was a pretty big step. But admitting it to my family was probably the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done. It sounds weird I know, but hear me out.
It felt soooo liberating to say it out loud. And it sort of made it more real. Not that I wasn’t sure before I told them, but I think the whole fear of them reacting like it was a bad thing kind of held me back.

It was a bit weird realizing that I've actually seen myself as gay when I was 12/13 (maybe not in as many words). Think of all the time I have wasted convincing myself that I should like boys and feeling all different and wrong because it never really worked. Damn that therapist!

Additional lesson learned: Go through your old stuff on a regular basis. You never know if you find some old piece of information that could have been useful a decade or two ago.