My Lesbo Gf

My Lesbo Gf
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My girlfriend and I have been together for almost a year now. Neither of us saw it coming.
We met at work. I was new and she was training me.
Let me take you back to 2016, when the LGBTQ+ community was thriving and same-sex marriage was legal in most U.S. states. Since I was old enough to understand what the LGBTQ+ community really stood for, I was an ally. As the years went by, I knew more and more people who were a part of the community, and I knew more and more people who were allies.
Walking down the street, or through a strip mall, I often viewed women as beautiful and confident. I never thought of myself as being bisexual—I just understood these thoughts as me being uplifted by other women.
Then I met her. The one I've called my girlfriend for almost a year now. Neither of us saw it coming. She was a lesbian, but I thought I was straight.
We met at work. I was new and she was my trainer. We laughed and talked while training; we just automatically clicked. One day she gave me her number, and we started texting. I'm naturally flirty so this came as no surprise to me, but it did to her.
This is when I began realizing that maybe I was bisexual. Coming out to my parents wasn't as difficult as it has been for many other people I know in the community. This was a blessing because for a lot of people I know, it was not easy.
All I have ever known is heterosexual relationships. I've had my fair share of heartbreaks and disappointments from the men I've been with. I've been abused, lied to, cheated on, and the victim of many broken promises. 'Over it' is an understatement.
When I decided that I wanted to be in a same-sex relationship, I kind of just dove in headfirst. My partner had told me at the time, "Don't do this if you're not 100% sure that you want this to last. I don't want to be an experiment." When she said that, I realized that it was something I wanted. Even though I'd never thought about it before, I suddenly couldn't see myself without it. Not for the stability, or the being in a relationship, but because she was an amazing person and I knew she would treat me right.
Both she and I have had our fair share of previous relationships, and we both have baggage. We've been learning to share experiences and work through our differences. One year later and I can truly say that I've never been happier with someone. I've never planned for the future as much as I have with her, and I wouldn't change a second of it.
This content is accurate and true to the best of the author’s knowledge and is not meant to substitute for formal and individualized advice from a qualified professional.

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5 Signs That Your Girlfriend Is Actually A Closeted Lesbian Pretending To Be Straight
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There are many theories that claim how women are either bisexual or lesbians but never straight. Some are sexually empowered and open about their feelings whilst some just admire the same sex from a distance. Some date a man only because they have to. So, here are 5 signs that will show you if your girl is a closeted lesbian pretending to be straight.
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She talks to you about her ‘girl-trouble' and hugs you all the time. You spend most of the time with her and it's never awkward but the sex……that chemistry is only as good as pineapple on your pizza. You could please Satan with all that sensuality but her; she's still going to give away with a freakishly fake orgasm.
Her gal-gang is actually a group of secret lesbians who get drunk together to eventually make out and later act like nothing happened. Well, haven't you ever noticed how she's always initiating mild touches with certain good-excuses with her so called girl friends? Had it been a guy she was overly affectionate with you surely would've noticed, but hey keep this in mind that every girl is either bisexual or lesbian.
Whenever you plan a threesome, she hops in with sheer excitement. But while you're still dreaming about banging their brains out, she's already onto the girl. You're always on the side lines in the threesome and well, the girls get the girls. At least you get to live through that girl on girl fantasy!
Orange is the new black is her thang
Ask her the premier date of the next season, she'll respond faster than she ever has. She binge watches the show because its “knowledgeable”. Curious what knowledge could she get from those women in those orange uniforms? Bi-curious. Oops, I mean be curious.
She openly appreciates women. Like a man, she never fails to compliment a bombshell for her sharp features. Although, her reaction when someone claims they're a lesbian is what you can't miss. That sheer excitement behind that mischievous smirk says it all.
So, if your girl lives up to these signs, its time to move on to the next one.
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'Neither of us had been with a woman before.'
The hysteria of nighttime at a wedding - everyone an inflated version of themselves, like bubbles close to popping. Things always happen at weddings. This is what I told myself the next day - this is how I wrote it off when Sarah* and I had sex.
We were acquaintances, really, rather than friends. She was my best friend Steven’s* girlfriend. Steven and I had known each other since university. We’d spent our year abroad together, living out a silly, sepia-tinged Italian fantasy - ' che bello! che dolce!' - and then graduated and moved to London and ended up with a circle of six or seven close friends.
Our whole group had been pleased the first time Steven brought Sarah to meet us; he’d spent years dating women with wild temperaments who’d end up trashing his room or threatening to set his car alight unless he capitulated to whatever demand they had. His relationships, up to Sarah, seemed to me more like protracted acts of masochism. We’d winced behind his back when he said he’d found someone he thought he could have a future with. But then he brought her to meet us and she was perfect: fun but calm, wild without the violence.
I’d spent time with them as a couple but before this wedding Sarah and I had never really talked. So that day we talked. And then we danced. In hindsight I suppose we were flirting in a way that felt completely devoid of meaning or jeopardy because we were both straight. I found her charming and funny - she complimented me on my dress, my hair, my shoes. We laughed a lot and I was pleased for Steven - my best friend, who had been treated so badly by partners in the past. 'I’m really glad you like her,' he said to me that evening, spilling wine over himself. 'I’m really glad you’re happy,' I said back, helping him to mop it up.
It was when Sarah and I went outside to share a cigarette, sitting in a dark corner of the country house garden that she kissed me.
I was surprised, of course, but not so surprised as to jump back or make a comment. I suppose in a way it made sense in the context of the day and our flirtation. I was also drunk. I giggled and hiccupped - a parody of a drunk person, a character in a bad romcom. Nothing felt serious or real, suspended as we were in the amber of that perfect mid-summer’s night.
So, I kissed her back. Then we went and found a secluded part of the grounds and had sex outside, giggling and fumbling - and neither of us entirely sure what to do because neither of us had ever been with a woman before. It’s hard to remember what was going through my mind. I was just excited, even though I’d never done this before, it didn’t seem like a big deal. If this had been the boyfriend of a female best friend it would have been an ultimate betrayal. I would never do that to a female best friend. But with Sarah, in that moment, it didn’t feel like cheating. It didn’t feel like anything I’d felt before or anything I can really put into words now, almost five years later.
Even in the sober light of morning, I didn’t think about it that way. But I did feel uneasy. I could barely look Sarah in the eye when I saw her - I felt this knot of awkwardness and shame. I guess I should have known - the shame was there for a reason.
Later that day she texted me to say she was sorry for kissing me and could we just forget that anything had happened. I reassured her that it was 'all good' and that nothing more would ever be said about it.
And that’s how it remained for a long time: a sore spot of a secret. I couldn’t think about it too closely because, like pressing a bruise, it made me flinch with discomfort. I’d consigned it as much as possible to memory until last year when Steven told me that he planned to propose.
When they were just boyfriend and girlfriend it was bad, but somehow less bad. Now though...I've thought over and over about how hurt he’d be if he ever found out. When they asked me to do a reading at their wedding, Sarah avoided making any eye contact with me the entire conversation. I still haven’t picked anything yet because it feels so disingenuous. I can’t even bring myself to think about it.
With a bit more maturity I can see that there’s really no distinction between cheating with a man or a woman, it’s still a betrayal and I wish I could take my actions back. Now I don’t really speak to Sarah, I guess we were never really friends in the first place, but the fact that we slept together has poured cement into the fissure between us. In a way, that has also made my relationship with Steven more difficult - he sometimes wonders aloud why Sarah and I don’t spend more time together. I think the guilt is something we’re both trying to forget, though I think it’ll be difficult. If you've got a story that you think would work for The Secret Lives of Women, please email secretlives@elleuk.com
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