I have always wondered what would happen if I was a human being, no gender, no sexuality and no identity.
Just a human being who loved other humans and that’s it. I wondered what it would be like if we all had one skin tone, one race and one voice… I end up getting restless because that world would be boring. The world would lose its finesse and just be a blended space with nothing but uniform energies and useless beauty.
Then I go back to how the world is now, full of life. Life! What quality of life? Well that remains to be seen, but its life nonetheless. These thoughts come about because of the many things that I am, those things that I rebuke and perhaps those that I am to learn about myself as a human being.
I went to a school where girls had their own hostel, we had boys yes but it wasn’t the same. I knew I admired a woman’s body from a very young age. I also loved men’s bodies in a different way. It just wasn’t comparable. I mean they didn’t have these bumpy bodies with curves and hour glass figures, they didn’t have these asses that swayed and moved with time. Their legs weren’t long, shiny and nourished or filled with drugs that could intoxicate. They didn’t leave me in awe so… yeah they were lovable but not admirable.
I remember when I first started growing breasts. I knew someone would appreciate my body the way I did and that someone would be a woman. I wanted it to be a woman. I longed to touch a fully developed breast, play with it, suckle on it and squeeze it. It wasn’t sexual then, it was just a fascination with women’s anatomy.
I had my ‘shenanigans’ with the other girls in boarding school. We fooled around and all but it mean nothing to me. It wasn’t what I wanted, their bodies weren’t full. We had hardly reached puberty so it was just kids playing house – no harm done. I remember the older girls would make penises from paper then mount them and pretend to be fucking. It was fun but it left a huge question mark on my head. I wondered how it would be to touch a woman, a fully developed and experienced woman.
I didn’t realize that everybody expected a girl to marry a boy. I thought it was okay to marry whoever you wanted to marry.. Seriously I wasn’t aware that we were created to follow a system and that system didn’t give a fuck about our hapiness or feelings.Follow it or be marginalized. I guess I was gullible and naïve. The day I realised that what I longed for was unacceptable I prayed so hard for the feeling and the curiosity to go away.
As I got deeper into my repenting stage I had fought demons that should never be fought by a child at that age. In my mind I was a sinner and God hated me. I needed to wonder about touching boys and their dicks. At least then I would be a normal kid and I’d have something in common with other girls, which would make me acceptable.
When the feeling would come back I’d pray to forget about it. Bear in mind I was also facing the dilemma of seeing naked girls in the morning! Big virgin porn-star breasts, small perky tits, mild tennins balls, humongous watermelons and in the ass department it the same. I was confronted with different body types and silhouettes, pussy shapes and clit sizes – some were too small to see, some puffy and erect and others so big they scared me. Now that I’m older I can safely say that I was in Eden and so lucky to have learnt that much about women.
I am a pansexual woman meaning that I am gender blind, I date a human being and everything that follows is really a bonus. In my 20 something years on earth I have yet to be in a relationship.
Yes! I have lived my childhood fantasy of touching fully developed breasts and have done much more than that but I am yet to say “this is my girlfriend/boyfriend” or whatever best suites me. There are a lot of issues surrounding that but the main ones are that I’m disabled and a very feminine ‘straight looking’ lady. I swear those two things alone will drive me to the nunnery *giggles*.
On a serious note though. Being in a wheelchair and identifying as pansexual have created a very haunting world for me.
I am constantly terrified to say “by the way I’m pansexual” because lesbian women automatically think I’m saying” by the way I’m screwing the whole world and you are next” they misunderstand my identity and aren’t open to hear me out. My disability factors in because many people hastily conclude in their minds -when they see me being pushed or when I’m pushing myself -that I must be the only person in the world that is suffering meaning I am emotionally unstable. Also they think that they wouldn’t know how to approach me or what to say to me so I am ignored by default, shut down and left to hang.
Imagine how horny and lonely I get.
The internet has helped a bit but the process of explaining myself remains daunting. I’ve had people who are genuinely interested in me as a person but the moment they hear about my complexities and textures they lose interest and I move right along. You know some people are fucked up, they get your hopes high and then BAM they drop you.
Here are a few gems that I have heard from people:
Really? In this day and age we are still trying to fit people like puzzles? Box them and tick “homosexual” or “heterosexual”?!
Why can’t I say that I’m a fruit loop and not have anyone deny it for me?! Why should I have to explain and not people going out there and understanding my sexuality. It is the most tiring thing ever. Especially when I tell a guy I’m pansexual and they go ‘huh?’, I then calmly explain and they make it about sex. Not intimacy. Not feelings. Not anything that I love about my wide and long list of interests but sex. You’d swear I’d said: “bhuti your dick isn’t the only thing that I enjoy sexually, I love pussy too”, they freak out like I am disease infested. At this point explaining and learning isn’t welcome and I am called names – mostly a whore.
For fucks-sake there are people attracted to objects (objectophiles) are we going to deny them their right to love whatever they want to because we are too hung up on the “Mummy and Daddy” system. Its time now to accpet that you do find “mummy and mummy”, “daddy and daddy” and sometimes “mummy, mummy and daddy”.
If only people understood that sexuality is fluid. It flows. It moves. It isn’t one thing it’s many things.
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