i kissed a boy and i liked it.

Ok.  So if you've known me at all over the past four years, especially if you knew me during the last two years of high school (hell, if you just went to my high school--I had it emblazoned on my damn tshirt), you'd know that I've long identified as a big ol' MO.  Lesbian, dyke, gay, I like women, etc.  "But wait!" you say, "your post title says you kissed a boy!"  Well, folks, that's what we're going to talk about today: my long and mildly stupid journey to realizing that gender doesn't matter.  I repeat: GENDER DOESN'T MATTER.  But I have a feeling most of you already know that.  On to my blabbering.

When I was fourteen or so I started to realized that I was attracted to girls, and considering my very long and very vocal history of obsessing over boys this concerned me.  Well, it actually didn't bother me that I liked girls.  Not for long anyway.  I wasn't homophobic.  I loved my gays!  I just never thought I'd be one of them. A year or two and many angsty journal entries later (I think I like girls...  But I still like boys!  Oh, what to do????) I started coming out as gay to a few friends, then everyone I met, then my family.  I was uncomfortable with the word "lesbian" and very uncomfortable with the idea of being bisexual.  It came with so many nasty, slutty, attention seeking connotations.  I certainly wasn't going to be bisexual.  No sir.  Not me.  I like girls only.

If there's one thing at which I excel, its convincing myself of things that aren't true.  I knew I was still attracted to men and I have the journal entries to prove it, but I desperately suppressed those feelings to avoid the bisexual label.  This is why I am convinced that every person who claims homosexuality is a choice is not only right on some level, but also bisexual.  Everyone who isn't a zero or a six on the Kinsey scale really sort of does have a choice--though it is much healthier to not make it.  Anyway, I eventually made myself comfortable with the words that meant I was a woman who like women.  Only.  How disgustingly limiting of me.

This summer I've been focusing a lot on being more honest with myself and more open to everything really, and I've finally gotten to the point where I can appreciate the differences biological sex has to offer, but ultimately the gender of the person I'm with doesn't matter.  So, yeah.  I hooked up with a dude last week.  And it was great.  Who would have thought I'd get my hands on a man before they ever touched a lady?  Not me (well, a little).  Certainly not anyone who's ever seen me wear my 'PS, I'm a Lesbian' tshirt. 

My point is:  hook up with or date or whatever who you're attracted to, and don't worry about their gender, or their parts, or what it means for your sexual identity.  Still be responsible about sex though!

I'm so over the whole concept of sexual identity.  The idea didn't even exist until a couple hundred years ago anyway.  Greek and Roman men hooked up with dudes and it didn't make them gay or bisexual.  Those words didn't exist.  Those ideas didn't exist.  Ok, it was a bit more complicated than that, but you can find out for yourself.  I no longer claim the term 'lesbian' to describe myself, and I'm not going for 'bisexual' either.  'Gay' is cool because its a bit more open, but those labels, while handy, really only reinforce the gender binary.  A woman who likes women.  A man who likes men.  A man or woman who likes men and women.  WHO CARES?  I'm a person who likes people.  And if you must label me, I guess you can call me queer.

I tried to explain the concept of queer to some fifteen year old boys I ran into at the playground last night, and of course I couldn't.  But maybe that's the beauty of it.  A label that doesn't mean anything but also means everything.  Those of us who claim queer cannot be pinned down.  I'm starting to get the feeling that this is even bigger, even more radical, and even more lifechanging than we ever imagined.  And we thought it was pretty big already.

If you don't know what I mean when I say "queer," the Wikipedia article on the subject is actually surprisingly spot on to the definition my wonderfully intelligent and radical Charleston friends have come to.