Coming out as a label

For all of us non-heteros out there coming out is something we've all had to deal with.  Whether someone has decided to come out to the world, only to close friends and family, or to continue to stay closeted, coming out is something we've all thought about.  What adds more frustration to the difficult task of coming out?  Labels.  Yup, labels.  Are you gay, lesbian, queer, dyke, trans...  That seems to be the easier part.  Once I knew I was a lesbian I starting wondering which type of lesbian I was.  Was I like Bette Porter on The L Word and a lipstick lesbian?  What about being a chapstick lesbian like Ellen DeGeneres?  Could I be a granola lesbian?  What about blue jean femme?  That seemed to describe me.  I'm not athletic or sporty, and I'm certainly not butch or androgynous.  For some reason picking the correct label seemed really important to me at the time.

After reading a blog entry by Kathy Belge at lesbianlife.about.com/ I realized that I had to become comfortable with the label lesbian.  At first it was weird, then one day I looked in the mirror and said "I'm a lesbian."  It seemed to be the most beautiful thing I'd ever said.  I repeated it over and over "I'm a lesbian.  I'm a lesbian.  I'm a lesbian!"  Even now, when I say the word "lesbian" my heart swells with pride and the word tastes sweet on my lips.  At that point in my coming out process I wanted to shout to every person I knew..."I'm a lesbian!"  I figured that in my small Bible Belt town that could get me lynched, but it didn't stop me from grinning from ear to ear for weeks.  I'd done it.  I owned the word lesbian.  It was the sweetest word I'd spoken up until that point in my life.

It didn't seem to matter as much what type of lesbian I was, just that I knew that I am a lesbian.  By the way, I finally decided I'm a "Blue Jean Femme," as Kathy describes in her about.com blog.
            "Definition: A Blue Jean Femme is a lesbian who 
             identifies as femme, or feminine, but prefers 
             jeans and more casual clothing to dresses and skirts."


Then, the strangest thing happened.  I fell in love.  I fell in love with a man.  I consider myself "a lesbian in love with a man."  I do not feel any less lesbian.  I still feel the same way about my sexuality I did before I met him.  The word "lesbian" is just as sweet on my lips as it ever has been.  I'm just in love with my soul mate, which happens to be a man.  Don't get me wrong, I am really, really  in love with him.  I'd do anything for him, I'd give my own life for him in an instant and I know he would do the same.  I'd much prefer us both alive, though!

I think it is hard for people to accept that I'm a lesbian because I'm in head over heels love with a man.  I'm supposed to be bisexual.  I am the only one who knows my sexuality, though.  I'm no less lesbian, but I'm no less in love with my man.  I love him more each day, more than I thought possible.  I fell in love with him right away and after being together a little over a year I still sleep only to cuddle him through the night and wake up only to see his face, blurry with sleep and our good morning kisses we share.

I've come to realize that there are a select few who don't like labels.  I'm a bit OCDish and everything has a label in my life, except how I feel about My Love.  The only words I can think of to describe him would be: endless love, eternal, intelligent, gentle, and of course "My Love."