Kissing Girls

    This post kind of feels like it's coming out of nowhere - which is partially true.  I had a memory come to me in the form of a vivid dream that literally woke me up out of a deep sleep.  I wondered why my brain brought up that memory for.  Was it trying to remind me about someone or trying to prove something to me?  I realize I probably sound a little loopy, but if you've ever had a dream so vivid you wake up feeling a little guilty for something you did in it, then you can understand where I’m coming from.  Ever since waking up from this dream, these stories have been dying to come out of me.  As I fall asleep, my brain rewrites over and over again the first section you'll read here.

    I think part of why I've put off sharing this is because I've always been a little unsure of where the line is between appropriate and inappropriate.  Where the line is between telling my stories, and telling other people’s stories in the process.  I've always been guilty of being an oversharer.  While some people find it endearing, I worry about the opinions of other who find it more unappealing.  But I started this page because I wanted to share my stories, so that's what I'm going to do.

    The first time I ever kissed a non-relative female was when I was four years old.  That probably doesn’t seem all that shocking or unusual.  It was the last day of Kindergarten and I was devastated to be moving on from my teacher's class.  I had planned and thought through what I would do and the day had finally came.  We kids walked out to the buses, followed by the teachers who came out to wave and wish us a good summer.  I hung back behind the rest of the kids as long as I could, so that I was one of the last kids walking away from the teachers and towards the buses.  Mrs. K told me I needed to hurry, I didn't want to miss the bus. I said,

    “Just, I need to tell you something.”

    “Okay, what is it?”  She asked, from a standing position.

    “C'mere.”  I gestured for her to bend down to my level, she was a tall woman, especially compared to my kindergarten height.  She hesitated, looking around and watching the other children getting onto their buses.  She leaned down, turning hear ear to me as if she was anticipating I was going to whisper to her.  I waited for the perfect moment for me to kiss her right on the mouth.  She shot up and put her hand to her mouth.  Without any further explanation, I ran off to the bus.

    This still may read like an innocent story, and maybe it is.  I'm overthinking this memory, like I overthink so many things.  But when I got to my seat on the bus and knelt on the brown leather bus seats to look out the window, the look of dismay on Mrs. K's face as she wiped her mouth is burned into my memory. 

    The next time I kissed a non-relative female was many years later.  I was fifteen, going on sixteen in a few months, and my friend Trinity and I were getting closer.  I'm not entirely sure what prompted this closeness.  To be honest she and I had a tumultuous past.  There had been years prior where I would openly admit to hating her and would be unabashedly unkind to her regardless of who was around – almost especially when people were around.  But over the years, she and I had found a common ground.  It was my heart and mind that needed to be opened up to her, not the other way around.  But sometime during my Sophomore year in high school, Trinity and I became very close.  She also had her driver's license, which may have had something to do with it.

    My mom trusted Trinity, and Trinity had the freedom to go places without parental supervision.  We never did anything scandalous while we were enjoying the freedom of being teenagers with a car and a license to drive it, though.  One summer afternoon, she had come over for few hours before she had to leave for work.  My mom was doing chores, my dad was working, and my siblings were grown and out of the house living by their own schedules.  Trinity and I were in my bedroom, looking at things on my computer, listening to the most recent downloaded songs provided to me by my best friend Erin.  We took some selfies – Trinity was always the type to put her hand around you or press her face to yours for photos.  It wasn't a weird thing, it was just a trait I learned to expect from her.  After taking some selfies and reviewing them on the screen of my digital camera, Trinity asked me a very unexpected question,

    “Have you ever wondered if you were a good kisser?”

    I paused.  “Well...yeah.”  I admitted.   “I think that's normal.  To want to be good at something.”

    “Yeah.”  Trinity agreed.  “But, like, I just wish you could ask your friend or something, ya know?”

    “Sure.”  I said, although I couldn't honestly say I'd ever thought of asking my friend to tell me if I was a good kisser.  Obviously I wanted to know, but I guess I wanted whoever I was involved with to be the one telling me.

    “Yeah, cuz, like, you can't ask boys cuz that's weird and then they'd know you were insecure, ya know?”

    “Yeah, that's true.”  I agreed.  You certainly couldn't ask a boy to tell you how good of a kisser you were.  “Even if you did, they'd probably just say something nice so they wouldn't hurt your feelings.”

    “Exactly.”  We laughed.  “I mean...you know...we're friends.”  She paused.  “And if we both wanna know.”

    “Like…us kiss?  And then rate each other?”

    Trinity shrugged, “Yeah.  Basically.”

    I laughed awkwardly.  What a bizarre proposition.  And how pissed would my mom be if she walked in on us?  This was basically the one friend of mine she truly trusted despite her being a few years older than me, and significantly more independent than most of my other friends.

    “I mean, sure.”  I said.

    “Okay!”  Trinity responded.

    “But, like, we have to set the mood.”  We both laughed.  “Gotta like play music or something, right?”

    During our blooming friendship, Trinity and I had more or less vowed to be each other’s dancing partners at all of the school dances.  Usually because we didn't have dates, or our dates couldn't (wouldn't) come, and we just wanted to dance and have a good time.  She and I would dance to anything – we'd slow dance, we'd line dance, and we'd also dirty dance 2000s style.  We'd grind on each other with the best of them.  We were certainly not the only people grinding on the dance floor, sometimes people would form what we called “trains” where a group of people would all grind on each other.  But, Trinity and I were among the only pair of girls grinding on each other at our small country school.  It would just be the two of us feeling ourselves and the music – and each other if I'm being honest.

    It started off as an innocent want to just dance, regardless of what song came on or whether or not we had dates.  But when the teachers started noticing and getting uncomfortable to the point of breaking us up, it almost became a challenge.  If Trinity and I danced with our friend Rob between us, that was fine and didn't seem to warrant a talking to.  But if Trinity were just enjoying ourselves, running our hands up and down one another, or Trinity pushing her back to my front or vice versa, suddenly teachers felt the need to come up and tell us to cool it.

    So that was the mood I was going for.  I turned off my bedroom ceiling light, turned on the blacklight and glitter lamp I had and put on the only Now That's What I Call Music CD I had with some R&B music on it and we started dancing.  All the while wondering if my mom was going to overhear, question the different choice in music from my norm, and catch Trinity and dancing together.

    “Gay” wasn't really something we talked about in my family.  It really only ever came up if it was talked about or shown on TV but honestly in the 90's I feel like there was minimal exposure to gay content, at least in what we were watching.  Anytime “gay” did get brought up, it was basically explained to us as just acting.  Kind of like how married actors and actresses will act – or pretend – to be in love with someone else on a show or in a movie.  So, “gay” was kind of this thing that people do, but it's only for money or entertainment purposes.  It wasn’t like, a real thing that people did in their real lives.

    Even when I was dancing with Trinity, it felt funny.  Like and inside joke that only we understood.  So, while we dancing in my bedroom to music that similar to the Top-100 stuff that the school DJ played, it just felt like something to do.  It wasn't sexual, or romantic, or “gay”.  We were just gals being pals.

    So, we kissed.  At first just lips, and we laughed at the absurdity of what we were doing and how forced or staged it felt.  Then we kissed again, deeper, tongues included.  After what felt like an appropriate amount of time, we parted.

    “Well…that was an experience.”  Trinity said.

    “Yeah, for sure.”

    “So, how was it?”  Trinity asked.

    “You kiss…softer than the people I'm used to kissing.”  I laughed.

    “Yeah, you kiss more...intensely than the people I'm used to kissing.”  She laughed.

    “Really?”  I laughed again.

    “I mean it was fine!”  She tried to recover.

    “No, it's okay, really!”  I tried to reassure her.  “Like, I don't doubt it.  I kind of like … go all in.”

    “Yeah, exactly!”  Trinity sighed.  “I didn't mean it like a bad thing.  But yeah, like, overall?  I'd kiss you again.”

    “Same!  Very nice kiss.”

    Not long after, it was time for her to head to work.  We hugged good-bye as usual and that was the end of it.  Sort of.

    There was a guy at school, Nathan, who was convinced he and Trinity were soul mates.  He would follow her around like a wounded puppy dog just trying to get her attention.  Trinity wasn't leading him on or anything, she said he was a nice guy but just a friend.  But Nathan wouldn't give up.  So eventually, Trinity and I decided we would tell him that were together – you know, cuz it's funny.  But when Trinity told Nathan that she and I were together he scoffed.

    “I don't believe that.  You're just saying that to make me jealous.”

    “How can we prove it to you?”  Trinity asked while linking her arm with mine.

    “I don't know.  I just know I don't believe you.”

    “Well...”  Trinity looked at me, and I looked at her.  We kissed.  Right in the middle of the high school hallway and in front of Nathan.  There weren't any teachers around, but Natahan's draw dropped.

    “Holy shit.”  He said.

    So that became our go-to move.  If a guy was getting too pushy or just being annoying, Trinity or I would Girlfriend-Card the other one out of that situation.  For a few years after starting this, whenever we got new boyfriends, we'd ask if they were “open minded”, *wink*.  “Open-minded” meaning that they were okay with us kissing and dancing dirty with each other.  Because we liked kissing each other.  For shock value, because it was fun, because it got a reaction, but of course we didn't want to sabotage our own relationships for this joke / hobby.

    Eventually Trinity got a boyfriend who wasn't “open-minded” and said it was kind of weird that we thought anyone would be okay with that.  It seemed pretty innocent and PG as far as I was concerned but it stopped within the same year that it started.  I missed being able to count on dancing with her at school dances, and I missed kissing her, but I didn't wanna make things weird between us or between her and her new boyfriend that she was very serious about.

    After Trinity got her new boyfriend, I went back to trying to find someone to be mind.  I found a lot of guys that wanted an open-relationship, or simply didn’t want to be held to boyfriend expectations like bringing me around their family.  One day, my friend Cassandra, who was sick of me bumming around be depressed that I couldn’t find a real boyfriend, asked me if I was interested in having an entanglement with her and her boyfriend.  At the time I was pretty heartbroken over my own previous relationship and admittedly at the end of my rope.  In retrospect I recognize how dramatic that sounds, but for me at that time, fifteen years old and feeling unwanted by anyone I had feelings for, I was basically willing to say yes to anything.  It’s a story from one of lowest times in my life.  Cassandra’s boyfriend got on top of me, while Cassandra put her hands on my body and kissed me.  I remember walking away from that situation feeling worse than I’d felt when I'd entered it.

    About a year after that entanglement, I casually dated Patrick off and on.  During that time, I also made friends with a handful of people who were a grade or two below me.  Despite only being one or two years younger than me, something about their energies and personalities felt so youthful to me.  These were kids who seemed to really believe the world was their oyster and all they had to do was find a way to be creative and stay together and things would all work out alright.  I was always an outlier in that group, except when it came to my friendship with Lucy.  Lucy was a very affectionate girl, who treated me like a big sister and a best friend all wrapped into one.  I regret not making more of an effort to be a friend to her outside of school, but we did share Choir and Theater together which meant we had lots of extra-curricular time for making memories.  During a set of auditions for the annual theater production, we had a lot of downtime as the director watched student after student stumble over lines.  The auditions were held in the library so it was pretty easy for us to kind of hide around the bookshelves and get into some quiet nonsense.  There was lots of making out and cuddling and just general intimacy.  We were taking pictures and just having a grand old time when – I’m not sure who brought up the idea – but Lucy suggested we kiss for a photo.  Obviously, this was not a one-and-done photo op and we kissed multiple times before we finally got the perfect shot.  Patrick was there, taking the photos, and didn’t seem to mind the idea of his sort-of girlfriend kissing another girl.  So once again I was there, getting a reaction, kissing a girl, and feeling only kind of awkward doing it.  I never asked Lucy if she was gay or bi-sexual or anything, I knew she had family that was not heterosexual, but I never asked her myself.  At this time in my life, I accepted that being gay was in fact a real thing, but it just wasn’t who I was.  I was just a girl who liked kissing girls (and guys), who mostly dated guys cuz they were easier to bring home…when they’d let me bring them home.

    Years later, around the time I should have been starting my second year in college, I visited a high school friend who was living in the dorms at a university across the state.  It sounded like an adventure, so I found a friend to go with me and we planned an overnight trip.  The visit with McKenna the typical catch up and casual hang out I expected until her neighbors stopped by.  They were a married couple who lived in the next dorm over.  We went to their place because they had kids upstairs sleeping.  The group of us drank, played games, talked, overshared.  I think Ben & Bethany were easily 10 years older than the rest of us but I was pretty used to surrounding myself with older company so that wasn't the strangest thing to me.  As we kept drinking, and I was feeling pretty loopy, Ben & Bethany moved to sit right next to me.  Ben had his hand on my thigh and Bethany was playing with my hair.  They were showering me with compliments and physical touch and I was relishing in it.  Eventually everyone else went home, and Ben & Bethany offered to let me sleep over.  I agreed, sent my friend back with McKenna and let Ben & Bethany lead me upstairs.

    “We love to teach people.”  They said, clearly implying an entanglement.  Which is another one of those moments that is burned into my memory.  I laid in between Ben and Bethany, facing Bethany.  She took my hand and ran it down the length of her torso.  She kissed me, kissed each of my fingertips before placing my hand between her thighs.  Ben must have felt excluded because he eventually said,

    “I'll leave you girls alone.”  And went to sleep downstairs on the couch.

    Bethany and I laid in bed touching and kissing one another, for what felt like hours.  Their room was hot, and I was sweaty, but Bethany kept eye contact with me and encouraged me and never for a moment let me feel uncomfortable.  I fell asleep with her arm around me and woke up wondering what it meant that I had voluntarily been that intimate with a girl.  This was more than just kissing for a reaction, this was actual sex – depending on your definitions I suppose.  I went home and mostly just tried not to think much more about it – what happens on road-trips stays on road-trips.

    During my early twenties, I went to a lot of dance clubs.  Not because I wanted to hook up but just cuz I wanted to let loose and dance.  We went to standard clubs, so the expectation was that guys would inevitably come up to us girl – we always traveled in groups – and we would dance with a guy for the night before going home to our respectable beds.  Typically though, the girls I went to the club with would get a guy attached to their hip and I’d be the outlier dancing by myself.

    There were a few times over the years when I got exceptionally drunk.  We went to our normal club, and we had a designated driver – who after this night refused to ever do so again.  I was so drunk I could barely stand, so Cassandra led me to the half-wall that separated the dance floor from the bar and demanded my hands never leave the half-wall.  I listened – unlike our friend Anna who was a wondering.  I danced by myself and that wall with my eyes closed for what felt like hours.

    A girl walked up to me and said, “You’re having more fun than anyone else here.”  I opened my eyes and saw this beautiful brunette and I said,

    “Huh?”

    She repeated, “You’re having more fun than anyone else here.”  The dance lights glistening off of her tongue ring.

    I laughed.  “Yep!”

    “Can I dance with you?”

    “Of course!”  I put my hand around her waist and tried to dance with her.  Still very drunk, and probably acting like a fool, she smiled at me and I didn’t care.  Eventually she said she had to go and I said that made me sad but okay.  I returned to dancing with the wall and Cassandra eventually returned.

    “We’re going to take Anna to the bathroom.”  Cassandra stated.

    “Okay!” I said and took Anna’s hand for support.  The bathroom at this club was downstairs – a horrible plan for a business that relies on it’s customers consuming alcohol.  As we were walking downstairs, I suddenly blurted out, “OMG do you think the pretty girl with the tongue ring is down here?”

    Cassandra looked at me, “What?”

    “The pretty girl with the tongue ring that was dancing with me!”

    Cassandra shook her head and laughed, “I don’t know, hun, she might be, but first we have to get down there.”

    Sure enough, as we were walking down the narrow stairs, a group was also coming up and I saw The Pretty Girl with the Tongue Ring and I reached out to her.

    “Hey, girl!” She said with a smile on her face.

    “Are you gonna dance with me when I come back?”

    “Sure, hun, I’ll see you out there.”

    When we got back upstairs, Pretty Girl with the Tongue Ring was nowhere to be found, and I was very sad about it.  This continues to be Cassandra’s favorite drunk story about me, and brings it up often.

    Another time, when a group of us including Cassandra and Anna all went out for another friend's birthday, Anna I were dancing with each other.  She and I were kind of the less confident of the group so we clung together while the more confident girls danced on the speakers while strangers gawked at them.  At one point, Anna said that she was sad she didn't have anyone there to kiss her.  We were both a bit tipsy, but we were also close, so I said, "I'll kiss you!"

    "No you won't!"  Anna said.  So I walked right up to her, put my hands on either side of her face and kissed her.  Her friend that had come with us screamed her name, and dragged her off of the dance floor.

    "You're embarrassing yourself and you need to cool it."  This friend gave me dagger eyes and I laughed.  As if she wasn't just making out with a stranger after showing her panties off to the entire club.  Anna started crying, and Cassandra and I went down into the bathroom to comfort her.  We told Anna her friend was being a bitch, and she had no reason to be embarrassed and that her friend was just trying to ruin her good time.  Cassandra and I hadn't noticed Anna's friend sneak in the bathroom stall behind us, so it was quite the surprise when she walked out, made eye contact with us, and then left the bathroom.  It was awkward, but Cassandra and I stood by what we said as we pleaded for Anna to please come out of the bathroom and dance with us. 

    A few years later, at Cassandra’s bachelorette party, I again got a tad too wasted and wound up hitting on a girl at the bar and being devastated when I lost track of her because I hadn't been able to give her my number.

    It took me a long time to come to terms with how wrong I was about homosexuality.  I don't find myself drawn to labels or feel the need to announce my preferences to the world but, at the same time, part of me feels embarrassed about how hesitant I am.  I think in my mind I still refer to it all as “being open minded”.  Knowing that we as humans are inherently thrill seekers and that is okay.  I spent a lot of years of my life being judgmental and afraid of people who were unlike me.  As if their differences could shed off onto me like cat hair.  But over the years, I have been introduced to so many wonderful people, all whom are vastly different from each other and I have loved them all dearly.

    Once again I feel compelled to find some sort of moral to tie this up with, but I don’t have one.  I guess I just implore you, reader, that if you feel like you need to experience something to make your life feel whole or even just to confirm something in your heart, please do it.  Don’t spend years of your life being afraid of being yourself, of being honest with yourself, or expressing yourself.  It’s a lesson easier taught than learned I know, it’s something I’m still learning every day.