09.30.06
Posted in Relationships at 11:35 am by immoralfear
The endearing optimism, faith and unwavering trust of a child combined with the grounded practicality of an adult.
The safe space to divulge your deepest darkest desires and shameful secrets without fear of judgement.
The amazing warmth and wholeness when I wake up next to her, a sated tangle of arms and legs.
The ability to resolve petty arguments through live performances and Scrabble.
The freedom to live and love and learn, be it as individuals or together.
The way we flow so freely when it comes to roles and personalities.
The comforting knowledge that love is unconditional.
The commitment towards a shared future.
- About: Immoralfear is amused by some other responses to this section on Fridae.
- Forum discussion: Same-sex Dynamics
- technorati: gay, lesbian, queer, relationships, commitment
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09.26.06
Posted in General at 9:23 pm by sayoni
Yes, it is that time of the year again. The time of the year where you size up your favourite blogs and vote for them.
Quite unexpectedly, we have been nominated for the Best GLBT Blog category. We sincerely thank the anonymous party who did so, and hope we can continue to demonstrate the good qualities you saw in us to nominate us.
If you think we are worthy of this title, please go here to vote for us!
Do check out the other nominees in the category as well.
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09.25.06
Posted in Coming out, General, Identity at 11:56 am by Guest Writers
EARLY ENCOUNTERS
9.
Two years later and I commited it to matrimony, saw eight years and two children through with him. Unfortunately, as in many things, I would be lying if I said that the questions about my inclinations had completely gone away. In fact, I found myself still deliberating the polarities of my sexual orientation even while married. One encounter with a colleague at the school I was attached to for practical orientation still rings clear. Her name was Shirley and she sat beside me in the office and initially we started out as two people sharing very common experiences and wavelengths. We found that not many of our co-workers shared our sense of humour, let alone visions in life. I was gradually drawn to her chirpy and positive personality and she my open-mindedness and laconic wit. We looked forward to seeing each other for a brief hour or so because we were in different sessions (hers morning, mine afternoon). But everytime we shared a moment, it seemed to make our day because it assured us that there was still some sanity in the midst of bureaucratic hogwash.
The day I left we shared an awkwardly pleasant encounter. We had sneaked off for some ice-cream and we talked about nothing significant until she hinted how life would be tedious without her verbal-sparring partner. I knew that I would miss her too but not until a week later when I returned for a farewell gathering in the school. I found myself unusually excited on my way there but when I got there, I made it a point to avert her gaze and proceeded to sit at a few tables away. She seemed to notice this and later remarked that I was aloof and had so quickly forgotten her, and added that she had broken out in rashes that morning for no apparent reason and hinted that it was from excitement at seeing me. With that remark I felt strangely warm and fuzzy because of its closeness to my thoughts.
Although we never kept in touch after, I found myself wondering about the ‘what-ifs’. It put a furtive smile on my face when I reminisced about the words we shared, or never got round to sharing.
24, last time you’ll ever see me looking demure
10.
In my 3rd year of marriage, just before expecting my first child, would be my closest encounter to finally coming out. I was already feeling extremely alienated emotionally from my spouse because much as we liked each other’s company, we could never really connect on a level which I felt I needed but he could never understand.
So it was only natural that I transferred a lot of this on a colleague at the junior college I taught. Let’s call her V. V was like the epitome of what I wanted in a sister/companion/physical woman. When I first met her, there was an edge of ‘coolness competition’ which in retrospect was our trying to suss each other up. Truth is, like me, we both put on a guard when we find the other person attractive. And that was how it began. A relationship of constant are we/ are we not until the day I came out to her and she expressed her understanding but regret that she could never be gay because she’s what you’d call a female metrosexual. Apparently I was not the first girl who had barked up the wrong tree.
What was significant about our relationship was that I was then at the threshold of coming home to myself and she was very much the catalyst to getting me there. With her I felt I could understand what the emotional relationship was with a woman — the intensity, the connection, the understanding. And that was what I was searching for all my life but I couldn’t or didn’t dare put a finger on. With V, I felt I could be more the butchy gal in public because based on our characters and our dynamics, I was ‘active’ and well, the aggressor. Looking back, it’s all really amusingly warm in my heart how she who inspired me to come out is now a close friend who dispenses unsolicited advice which girl is right for me!
So it begun…once I acknowleged that I wasn’t ’straight’, that I could really fall for a woman and that I would even embrace the idea of kissing her, there was no turning back.
the catalyst
The next few years were spent bearing and having my two kids. During that period of significant changes to my life and lifestyle, I hardly contemplated my sexuality, possibly because I was too preoccupied with my new roles and responsibilities, putting aside personal agenda to see them through the typical challenges of kids from infant to toddler. I hardly had time in the day to even think about my hobbies, let alone who I loved, and perhaps this also affected the widening emotional chasm in my marriage, which would lead to the next chapter where I finally took a breather to find myself again.
proud & happy new mom
Coming up… Chapter 2
- About: Axegal is a late-bloomer gaymom.
- Forum discussion: Sayoni Forum
- technorati: lgbt, gay, lesbian, queer, glbt, relationships, coming out, growing up, gay mom, identity
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09.23.06
Posted in Coming out, General, Identity at 12:35 pm by Guest Writers
EARLY ENCOUNTERS
7.
I was starting to really plunge into the absolute abyss of self-doubt by the time I was 20. Taking a vacation job as a fitness instructor only served to open more avenues to explore my nagging questions. As a fitness mentor to several women every week, I found myself deeply gratified by my new position. It was a combination of egocentricity and the Svengali-ishly rewarding sensation of being these women’s ideal physical form. They would hang on my every word and depend on me to make their otherwise mundane work day a little more bearable with my light-hearted aerobics sessions. One particular student in her mid-20s caught my attention because she was not only at my class punctually but regularly. Although there were other instructors at hand, she would wait for my later class even if she had arrived at the gym earlier. She also encompassed what I would define as a beautiful woman - big hazel-shaped eyes, well-chiseled cheekbone structure and most importantly, an alluring smile which left me wondering what was behind it sometimes. I found myself looking forward to her attendance and even slighted if she didn’t turn up. The day my hamstring injury rendered me immobile in the middle of class, she quickly rose to the moment and offered to lead it for me with my verbal instruction (how bizarre). And when I had to quit as a result of that, she stopped attending and to me that was a coincidence I appreciated with private gratitude. We rarely spoke but it was that quiet acknowledgement of mutual admiration I’ll never forget.
From that stint I also learned that I may have been sending out these gay vibes or at least of my sexual ambiguity without intention. In this class was also another individual who started out keeping that professional distance until one evening when everyone had left, she came over from where I was cooling off behind the counter and remarked that I had very firm breasts. Thinking she wanted a few tips on attaining that form, I proceeded to demonstrate a few moves with the equipment to which she playfully asked if she could feel them (not the moves). This instantly shot a sensation of absolute revulsion and made me realise I could never handle a physical homosexual relationship (well thinking back now of course it was because she wasn’t my type!) And I confirmed this notion a week later when the same woman accosted me to apply ointment on her shoulders for abrasions she got from doing leq-squats at the weights machine. Although I handed the tube to her, she insisted coyly that I applied it for her. It made me think about how the physical closeness of another woman could be too frightening to deal with.
leading the pack
8.
Two years later and I met the man I would later marry. Prior to this, I had just spent a heart-wrenching year in a relationship in which the man-child played the field and kept me constantly wondering if we were going anywhere. Turns out decades later (as you’ll see in the later chapter) that he was grappling with his own sexual identity himself! Anyway, I clung on to that relationship only because I thought I had finally found someone who was unlike the typical male brute but was sensitive to the inner woman (there ya go!). The problem was that the relationship was too cerebral and I found myself doing too many stop-checks, analysing the nuances of each remark or gesture he made. It was so emotionally and mentally draining that I swore to myself that if it didn’t work out, I would rather be celibate or even explore my dormant gay orientation.
21, with exngbf competing for sexiness
But my future husband was the antithesis of the man before him. He made the dynamics of a relationship so simple - too simple - so much so I found myself quickly drawn into the whirlwind of his courtship. He was a reassuring force to my otherwise fragile ego from a failed relationship. He made me accept the unconventional femininity which was I and even admired my unusually strong amazonian persona. He quietly loved and accepted me for the weird yet alluring personality he saw and I found myself believing that this was indeed what everyone calls, “true love”. I hardly agonized over this relationship the way I did others before it and quite predictably I knew that this would be the one I would marry since it seemed sensible to me that your life-long companion should be an agreeable creature, a best friend and on occasion, a considerate lover. And he seemed to fit the bill.
straight-loving & engaged, 23
- About: Axegal is a late-bloomer gaymom.
- Forum discussion: Sayoni Forum
- technorati: lgbt, gay, lesbian, queer, glbt, relationships, coming out, growing up, gay mom, identity
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09.21.06
Posted in Coming out, General, Identity at 4:57 am by Guest Writers
EARLY ENCOUNTERS
5.
A year later and I shelved those disturbing feelings because I found that evasion was often the most convenient resolve. However, it was almost part of some divine will which I would, at different points of my life, meet an individual who would rekindle these extinguished embers.
M was a junior during the freshman orientation which I was part of the executive commitee. The first thing I noticed about her in that sea of gormless faces was an inexplicable aura of inner peace, which I so jealously yearned for myself. She radiated her calmness from within in the way she spoke in her impeccable diction accompanied by a serene smile.
At first we only had brief encounters over dinner in the communal hall till she decided to pay me a visit at my dorm room to discuss an interview she needed for her course of study. Along the way we discussed religion and I confided my faltering faith to which she displayed an immediate understanding which moved me.
As the weeks went on, M made it a point to come over every time she saw a light in my room (cliché, I know) even on occasions when I was too busy with an assignment to be good company. She would sit on my bed and stare into a vacuum which I could not comprehend and ever so often drop a bombshell line like, “You seem to need a lot of love” which completely threw me from an appropriate reply. She was unnervingly perceptive and sometimes she would make an observation which reached the darkest depths of my soul.
I started to find her company rather stifling, if not annoying, because I perceived her neediness which I knew I was unable to requite. Yet I allowed her to perpetuate in that manner because privately I did indulge in her admiration and tenderness. In fact, I only acknowledged this when she one day broke down and asked me to hold her hand. I did so, but not without hesitation and feeling completely ill at ease with the conflicting sensation of breathless pleasure and fear when she in turn, gripped and stroked my arm with intense dependence. But I knew I could not sustain that connection because I was always phobic where any emotional commitment to anyone was concerned. And so within the next month, I made it a point to avoid her purposefully. Even at some point ignoring her messages left on my door and once, without intention, letting her walk in while making out with some boy from my adolescent past. In fact, that must have been a cruel moment when she realised I may not swing in that direction.
We never did discuss our intimate encounter (awkward one after included) and in fact, we both grew completely apart after it. A decade later, I wrote her a letter thanking her for her wonderful extension of love which I had now acknowledged without prejudice, to which I received no reply. Then a chanced meeting of all places, at a dingy coffee-shop near my house had us in a strange discussion about it, while she was carrying her baby boy and me my girl. She thanked me for the letter and quickly explained that she had been too busy to reply, but I think the child in her arms was explanation enough.
playing for the same team — hockey, i.e
6.
The strangest and I’d say most awkward transition in my sexual knowledge would be my sophomore year in the university. That year also saw a quaint friendship with a hall-mate who was a freshie and shared an instant chemistry of understanding, almost in that quiet comfort of a soul-mate. Let’s call her H.
She was in the hall netball team and I remembered how we bonded over the myriad of games we played during the Inter-block tourneys since we were the handful of athletic girls who could throw or hit a ball competently enough to win our block some medals. Other than that it was the fact that I’m very much a hybrid Peranakan (of Straits born Malay-speaking Chinese heritage) so linguistically we could banter in cheeky Malay euphemisms exclusive to the rest of our peers’ annoyance.
I even recall one evening when we sat on the highest point of a building with full view of the ships docked at the West Coast talking till dawn about almost anything. It wasn’t any wonder why we transcended as really emotional close buddies, only short of taking it to the level of lovers as she had a boyfriend in the army and I was still entirely internally homophobic and overcompensatingly flirty with boys. Which brings me to the unusual conflict which is what this section is about.
Enter OJ, well only blatant hint about his real name is it’s exactly like that acronym of a famous fast-food franchise. Anyway, he drummed for the band I played in and initially our working relationship was entirely professional, save for the occasional witty verbal sparring over dinner as he being an ACS boy we shared very similar wry humour typical of mission schools. We hardly hung out outside jam sessions until one evening on a whim decided to catch a jazz ensemble at the university theatre together when no one else expressed interest. He drove the rental pick-up we had used for a gig the day before and I’ll remember being thoroughly amused by his company when at some point he made “soo-weee” pig noises as we pulled up to the carpark in the rickety vehicle at an otherwise classy event with audiences mostly driving luxury cars and quipping that “we’re the farmers comin’ round to see them jazz concert.” Point is, OJ was really an agreeable friend who so happened to have the XY chromosome and for some reason we never ventured romantically, and possibly because I knew about his girlfriend studying in Aussie.
Then one evening, entrenched in the stress of final exams, I recall having a really heated argument with H on the phone which ended in a slammed handset and tears. So while I sat on my desk looking out the window while trying to mug for my paper the next day and stifling sobs, OJ enters with a bottle of vodka and offering more than an ear. Well, I suppose it’s a guy-thing to pour a girl a drink while fondling her thighs when he comforts her in her grief! And the thing is, in my emotionally vulnerable state, I didn’t do much about it except to down a couple of shots and let him. And in the months that followed, we had a few of these physical encounters which ended in a one-night stand for which I looked back in awful regret because that was the last time I’d ever naively mistake lust for love and strangely, all because a girl broke my heart and a guy helped me think he fixed it. He was also the last guy I slept with before the completely celibate relationship with my ex-now-gay-boyfriend, which was the closest thing to a lesbian relationship (in section 8 )!
20, chilling with the band (that’s the bassist/keyboardist couple with us)
Coming up… Part 4
- About: Axegal is a late-bloomer gaymom.
- Forum discussion: Sayoni Forum
- technorati: lgbt, gay, lesbian, queer, glbt, relationships, coming out, growing up, gay mom
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09.19.06
Posted in Coming out, General, Identity at 12:07 pm by Guest Writers
TEN EARLY ENCOUNTERS
3.
By 17, I was beginning to handle my sexuality with greater confidence and assurance. I found myself increasingly drawn to the male gender and even ventured into a serious relationship with a senior at junior college. I was convinced then that a girl was a social misfit if she couldn’t nab herself a man. I thought then that all the initial oddities of my sexual orientation were part of a passing phase in early puberty. However, these confirmations did seem rather unsatisfying as I found that in moments of soul-searching honesty, I actually did not comprehend the intricacies of love and the sexual politics of heterosexual relationships. I was, at the risk of sounding cliché, in love with the idea of being in love. This explanation sums up all future encounters with men in the years which followed, especially in the face of pressures of dating in order to avert the stigma of being misconstrued a social pariah.
At 18, having gone through a couple of disenchanting associations with boys, I began to unleash the constraints of my inherent inclinations which I had kept in denial for a few years. For a good while I reviled these irregularities of $my inner psyche whenever I found a female attractive, but then another person would cross my path and re-awaken these repressed emotions.
This time it was a young teacher, not particularly attractive by commercial standards but she had an aura of serenity and self-possessed poise which drew my admiration, I fancied then that every nuance of a glance, smile or even a pat on the shoulder as a hopeful reciprocation of my affinity towards her. She seemed to me then to prolong our encounters at the corridor, or project meetings which we were mutually involved in. In my own egocentric reasoning, she seemed to treat me with special interest which I found gratifying, sometimes to the point of thrilling distraction. It did bother me that only once did a male affect me the same way when I was 14, but since then the same emotion has never re-surface. I found myself writing poetry and music more easily and needless to say, I was inspired to write a couple of songs about her. And the songs which I wrote before about men were often about the futility of love or the breakdown of relationships, which in comparison only served to ascertain that the female nature drew stronger emotional responses from me.
straight-loving teen, 18
4.
The brief period prior to my university education was a giant leap in terms of my sexual enlightenment. During the six months which I spent temping in a 9 to 5 job, away from the sheltered realms of academic pursuits and naive friendships, I grew in my disposition as a young adult. I met and worked with adults of motley personalities and a few of whom introduced me to a completely different world from which I emerged. It was my coming-of-age phase of my life. Some of these characters were of the male variety and who, apologies to all men, typified the boorish primal mentality of what is innately male. A couple of them repulsed me with their authoritarian, patriarchal bearings while another displayed the groveling sniveling manner and yet another the presumptuous capacity to infringe and even encroach on one’s personal space by virtue of his gender. Although one of them did show me how to appreciate the bestial pleasures of sexual intercourse, albeit for a brief three minutes, I quickly realised that all these pleasures were after all, transient and hence lacking in substance.
In the midst of all the confusing flux of sexual revelations, I met this wonderful divorced single mother of an 8 year-old daughter who was a panacea to an often bruised ego as a result of my frequent disenchanting male relationships. I sought her wisdom of experience and she would dispense valuable advice, assuring me of my ‘marketable’ status and how promising a future I had. She was a positive force in the otherwise dreary existence of ugly office politics filled with pretentious conversations and contrived social activities. But I never perceived that the attraction I felt for her was so profound until the day I left the job to start on my university course. Her remarks will be eternally etched in my mind because of it’s ambivalently pleasant and disturbing nature. She said in parting that she would never forget our ’special understanding’ and if we weren’t in the conspicuous setting of the office, she would have kissed me. I accepted her gift then and left in awkward abruptness. And the whole of that day I found myself laden with a heaviness of heart. I didn’t know why I was so attached to a person I had only known for half a year — had she awaken in me the co-dependency only shared between lovers? I was too afraid then to acknowledge the possible truth of that inkling for I knew that I could be exploring realities in a Pandora’s Box.
19, with my emotional mentor at work
Coming up…Part 3
- About: Axegal is a late-bloomer gaymom.
- Forum discussion: Sayoni Forum
- technorati: lgbt, gay, lesbian, queer, glbt, relationships, coming out, growing up
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09.17.06
Posted in Coming out, General, Identity at 9:14 am by Guest Writers
TEN EARLY ENCOUNTERS
1.
I was six when I first realized that the male physique is very different from the female. I also noticed that both genders react very differently to situations. This, as you’ve probably guessed, I gathered from observing my parents.
I was brought up the old-fashioned way — that children should be seen and not heard, and so we only spoke when spoken to. My dad, to me then, was a force not to be trifled with. He meted out the more severe punishments when mum decided she couldn’t deal with us. This ranged from torrential, blood-curdling yells to the lacerations of the bamboo cane which smarted for days on end. Mum only raised that hollow voice which even as a child I could distinguish as non-threatening, at least to my tender posterior.
Six, and I was introduced to a world different from the confines of my secure abode. My eyes were opened to folks other than my elder siblings, who to me were just your playmates with the occasion to bully and treat you as the pesky kid you were. The first person to ever change my mind that bigger people were not all angry and mean creatures was a senior in the third grade who seemed pleasant and patient and kind. Being my classmate’s elder sister, I found myself comparing the way she treated her sister with the way mine treated me. For the first time in my life I understood what covetousness was, albeit in a strange context. I wanted so much for her to be my sister, to love and ’sayang’ me the way she did her own.
It’s funny how I’ve forgotten their names but what remains clear to me till today is that I actually dreamt (fantasized?) about this person and in my dreams I am rescuing her from some imminent danger. I even found myself trying to impress her by running faster than my puny capacity allowed during the games we played at recess, or jumping higher than my peers over the string constructed from rubber-bands (called ‘zero-point’) when she happened to walk by. But I knew that for some strange reason, I just wanted to do something brave for her. What I didn’t know then was where such an emotion was coming from but now I know I was doing what one would call transference of emotions and seeking approval, which were not fulfilled at home.
I got over that crush very quickly and for awhile, I found that I never encountered those inexplicable stirrings again. But like all dormant, repressed emotions, these same feelings were directed time and time again on some attractive young teacher in the third grade whom I tried hard to impress by memorizing parts of the Britannia Encyclopedia or even a homely bespectacled teacher in the fourth grade who spurred me on to win her heart by scolding me in class for talking so much. These experiences made me realise in reflection that my fleeting infatuations were results of many frustrated emotions which I could never experience at home, what with a mother whose sole concern was how we were doing at school or a contemptuous elder sister who thought me too inane to have a conversation with. All these ‘flavours-of-the-months’ represented my surrogate mothers and sisters who at least validated me for my creativity, encouraged me with even the slightest hint of a smile, or read out my essays in class, much to my quiet exhilaration. Thus, I never felt the need for female tenderness at home so long as this existed in the satisfyingly secure realms of my school life.
By the time I was in the seventh grade, I was almost convinced that women were more attractive creatures. If it wasn’t an athletic senior in the tenth grade, it was a young and pretty teacher who bowled me over with her sophistication and poise. I found that males of my age were geeky, awkward beings who could only tease and taunt as their way of communicating with the opposite gender. As for all my inherent insecurities of being slightly obese and atypically feminine, I resented this treatment even more and this added to my natural aversion for testosterony creatures.
In contrast, my heroines were all likeable beings, with a willing compliment or even mutual admiration. These positive vibes drew me closer to my sexual awareness. But never once did I see it fit to fantasize about these subjects in an erotic fashion. In fact, I used to write trashy short romances which I shared with my close pal and in them featured socially acceptable relationships between the genders. I knew then that I was not a lesbian in the truest sense of the word but I seemed more drawn to the female persona because of all the values and traits they possessed which seemed more attractive than their male counterparts. I wasn’t against all males; I just wasn’t too particularly impressed by them.
average gawky tomboy, 13
2.
By my senior year, I was almost convinced that I was indeed attracted to the female gender as well as attractive to them. Although I had my fair share of adolescent crushes on a couple of boys and a few male admirers who sought my company at social functions, I always found that the emotional impetus of the female gender held stronger in terms of its ability to sustain my interest and attention, and stir up rather tumultuous emotional reactions.
Being a student leader of sorts, I was constantly in the attention of not only my juniors but also my peers, one of whom confirmed to me my emotional inclinations. Her name was Carolyn, a 17 year old streetwise and jaded teen who had joined our school to re-take her ‘O’ Levels. She was put in my disciplinary charge by our form-teacher because I was expected to watch her every move as part of my duties as a prefect. She encompassed the rebel audacity which I found myself admiring greatly, so much so I started to compromise my position by feigning ignorance of her truant behaviour or even going out on a limb to cover-up her late arrivals by retrieving her school bag which she threw over the fence after being locked out of the school gate. All this I did because I lived through her seemingly exciting life vicariously, being the cowardly conformist I was. All my actions were met with gratitude and later, as I discovered through her subtle gestures of teasing or even casual strokes and playful pecks, admiration, brimming on infatuation.
She once confessed to me in a card when we parted ways that she thought me special and kind and found herself getting increasingly drawn to me. And had we not kept the comfortable distance, she may have said or done things which may have threatened our friendship. But what Carolyn did was to stir up very real emotions which I wouldn’t say were sexual but the warmth and fuzziness one feels inside when you are physically close to a loved one - the feeling of security, of being loved and the egotistical thrill that someone actually feels that way for the nobody you think you are.
We never kept in touch since graduation and I know why. Because I wanted to keep the pleasant memory of our close encounter which never progressed to something beyond what we could handle. And the memory that something may have developed is far more pleasant and easier to deal with than the reality of a fantasy fulfilled. That is a phenomenal emotion which I still experienced through the years which followed.
typical butchy/rockette wannabe, 16
Coming Up…Part 2
- About: Axegal is a late-bloomer gaymom.
- Forum discussion: Sayoni Forum
- technorati: lgbt, gay, lesbian, queer, glbt, relationships, coming out, growing up
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09.14.06
Posted in Coming out, General, LGBT Rights, Mature, Podcasts at 8:42 pm by sayoni
Part four of the L3 Forum: Discussing Growing Old and Leaving
L3 Forum Part 4: Growing Old and Leaving
- enclosure: http://www.sayoni.com/podcast/L3%20Forum%20Part%204.mp3
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09.12.06
Posted in Coming out, General, LGBT Rights, Podcasts, Relationships at 6:53 pm by sayoni
Part 3 of the L3 Forum: Discussing Dating and Relationships
L3 Forum Part 3: Dating and Relationships
- enclosure: http://www.sayoni.com/podcast/L3%20Forum%20Part%203.mp3
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09.09.06
Posted in Coming out, General, LGBT Rights, Podcasts, Singapore Gay News at 8:44 pm by sayoni
Part two of the L3 Forum at Indignation. Talking about Coming Out and Homophobia.
L3 Forum Part 2: Coming out and Homophobia
- enclosure: http://www.sayoni.com/podcast/L3%20Forum%20Part%202.mp3
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