Our union was destined in the stars, without a doubt. A true story of the spiritual mystery, commonly referred to as unconditional love. A story so mysterious that I would have a hard time believing it myself if I hadn’t lived it.
Limitless- The End
"Love will take you Home. Home to that quiet peaceful place of your creation. Home to your innocence."
When I was seven, I began to play with girls. Well, a girl. And I am not talking about hopscotch or handball, although there was plenty of that, too. With a feather, we would partake in a tickle here and a pause there. First along the forearm and then to our privates. Big giggles were created, but then, we would feel that certain tug in our stomachs, reminding us to stop. I instinctively knew that our parents would not be happy (although I was too young and innocent to understand why), and our five minutes of pleasure would not be worth it. So, being the “good little girls” that we were, we stopped. That is about all I am willing to remember. My friend then told her mom and that was the end of that behavior.
I had a few others I “tried” to tickle. It felt sooo good. Nothing much came of my brief encounters except for obsessively tormenting myself that I could be a "bad girl." I also created chronic anxiety, feeling like there was someone who was missing in my life, the person who was born to complete me and make me feel special and whole.
By the time I was in fifth grade, I began to wonder about my sexuality. Many of nights, I stared at the ceiling, worrying and wondering how I was going to break the news to my parents that I could be a homosexual. This was the first time I remember creating fear of the imagined future. I would consistently think about not wanting to be a lesbian and how I was going to get along in a world where I hadn’t even met one. I somehow knew they existed, but who were they? What were they?
When I was around twelve years old, I remember a conversation my parents had with their friends after dinner. I had previously been sent to my room-just cause. My dad and mom were older than most of my similar aged friends, old fashioned, and still firmly believed that “kids were meant to be seen and not heard.” So, being a curious pre-adolescent, who learned the juicy stuff by proximity-not intimacy-sneaked around the corner and listened.
With slight trepidation, my father said: “Kathleen doesn’t know what a homosexual is.”
“Are you sure?” the guests replied, somewhat surprised.
“Yes, she is still very naive,” my mom proudly interjected.
I don’t remember much after that except for a race car screeching through my circulatory system and crashing into my throat, preventing me from screaming out to their ignorance: Yes, I do. AND, I am one!
On August 13th, 1981, the summer going into sixth grade, my mother gave me an informational book about puberty. After an awkward silence, I looked up at her and said, “Thaaanks.” When the bedroom door shut, I curled up to the bright yellow pillows on my canopy bed, anxiously hoping to find some answers that I surely wasn’t going to ask of her. My mother was also a child of the ignored generation-a professional at cleaning, cooking dinner, helping with homework, minding my father’s requests (well, demands) and playing her role in their co-dependent and long distance relationship. During the week, my father worked three hours away. Emotionally, she was not there for me. How could she be? She was not there for her own being and had stopped herself from feeling emotions many years prior.
With butterflies fluttering down my intestines, I opened the book and browsed through the chapters, desperately searching for answers as to... WHY?!?. Midway through, I found an explanation with which I created great relief. It mentioned that it was natural for many pre-adolescents, going through “the change,” to ponder on whether or not they are homosexual. Whew!!! Peace coursed through my veins, and I told myself that I had hope. Tits, zits, and screaming fits were enough; never mind, any prejudices that did not fit in with the majority of societies models and my parents.
Once I was in seventh grade, a whole new world opened up. I went boy crazy. My mania continued throughout high school and for many years to follow. The book was right! Thank God. I “thought.” And yet, the longing for wholeness still quietly remained.
Skip to college. I will never forget meeting her. The quintessential blonde. Blue eyes. Skin as smooth as glass. She was perfection. The most gorgeous part was that she didn’t even know the depth of her beauty, inside and out. Friendly and humble. Sunshine breaking through a cloudy day. I was unwilling to pull up what I knew to be true. That I had my first real girl crush. My heart’s voice was subtle, and I kept it that way, tucked between the valves, pumping oxygen into my bloodstream. I did have a boyfriend, and remember, I had now claimed that I was NOT a lesbian. But was I bi-sexual?
My intuition was still a mere whisper, making it much easier for me to ignore. Although the thoughts of my first same sex crush ceased, the faint reminder of my sexuality, didn’t. The deep seated loneliness for my missing piece continued to relentlessly tug on my heart strings, a heaviness that I did not understand no matter how hard I tried. Just a few short years later, I had a new boyfriend who was more than happy to help me fulfill my inner urges for females through sexual fantasy. He didn’t make me wrong or dirty or weird. I was free to be me, resulting in a more-than-fulfilling sexual relationship that lasted five years. Intense and passionate love making was simply not enough to keep us together, harmoniously. Sex addiction never is.
In my late twenties, I finally became single. My neediness for finding a partner to "complete me" and filling the void that I had ignored since childhood became more obvious. I distracted myself with the addiction to shopping. Yep, I convinced myself that if I bought just the right outfit, I would feel better. And in the temporary high of finding the latest and greatest accessory to complete my look, I did think I was better. I told myself a story that me and my new turquoise necklace would attract my next hottie.
About ten of us girls would go out downtown, flirting, dancing, and feeding each others ego by saying, "Girrrl, you've still got it!" After a while, I wondered, who am I really dressing for? We all clung together like a herd of estrogen junkies. The guys stayed on the sidelines, drinking their cocktails, while watching us shake our thang until the last call for alcohol. During the night, the girls would often become intoxicated, inevitably splurging out their truth serum while joking, “Kathleen, YOU ARE SUCH A LESBIAN." Well, many truths are said in jest; I would laugh along (sort of) while wondering, once again...was I?
By the time I met my now ex-husband, Kaptain, I was more than ready to settle down and have babies with a “rock solid family man.” After a year of dating, he got down on his knees along the white sands of 15th St., Del Mar and asked me to be his wife. Days prior, he had glued all the pages together of William Shakespeare's book, The Sonnets- Poems Of Love. He then carved out a hole in the middle and delicately placed a three stone diamond engagement ring. The Kaptain had purposefully chosen Shakespeare, desiring to please me and my father who had courted my mother by reading her poetry. A romantic gesture that will stay with me forever. Although the proposal was heartfelt, I experienced him as more than skittish, unfortunately, it did not flow like we had previously imagined.
Once married, I, at times, created the dread of my own questioning of my sexuality and resisted it with a passion. I did not want the fact that I was bisexual to be true. More than that, I couldn't seem to fill the hole in my heart.
At the age of forty-four, my heart opened, revealing that there are no limitations on who we love. Or, how many people we are capable of truly loving, even beyond the narrow scope of romantic relationships.
Shortly after Kaptain and I changed form of our relationship, I met her, Cara, "my dream come true.” I created the willingness to love who I love. And then, when my world went black, I met her, the true love of my life... Francesca Braver. I ignited the braver flame deep in my core, creating the willingness to extinguish the darkness by pulling up the wisdom that I had allowed my fear to block.
We are limitless beings in the theater of life, full of extraordinary power and potential when we choose to claim our birthright. We do not need another to complete us.
For what is, is, and always will be.
Party Days With My Sister
The Train's A Coming...4-14-14
(Morning Of The First Blood Moon)
Humbled And Unearthing My Spirit
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