I’m queer. That’s that. There was a time that I was interested in biological men, that time is no more. And I’m not making any sort of assumptions or huge life long statements about never being able to look at a man’s biological penis again. That’s just silly, and I have learned that I’m constantly growing and changing, to a degree. But what I can firmly say is that a het man is not what I’m remotely interested in. I’ve made it as clear as I possibly can lately, and yet it seems to be perceived as a challenge. “I’ll be the one to cure her of the evil dyke disease!” Well, I’ve had that evil dyke disease as long as I can remember, and quite frankly, I’d rather not be cured. I enjoy that evil dyke disease. I embrace it. I’m a femme queer who revels in her attraction to other biological women, particularly those who are butch.
And I must address the misconception that because I’m primarily attracted to bois that I’m somehow trying to have a man without having a man. I don’t want a biological man. I want a boi. It’s a dymanic I don’t feel I can rightly explain, which may sound stupid as I’m currently writing a blog about my attraction to bois, but it’s not a half-assed replacement for a man, it’s entirely different and much more fulfilling to me as a person. And while I like to express my feelings on the subject of my sexuality I don’t feel the need to explain it. I am who I am. There are tons of labels I could use, but none of them fit me entirely and I’d much rather just be me.
I accept people of all walks of life, all sexualities, all lifestyles, and all I ask is for the same courtesy. What’s so hard to understand about my sexuality?