puttanalibera

Femminismo, parità, diritti LGBT e politica italiana

Am I homoromantic? — agosto 17, 2017

Am I homoromantic?

 

Sexual orientation is an internal mechanism that directs a person’s sexual and romantic disposition towards one or more persons, to varying degrees (LeVay & Baldwin, 2012). However, defining sexual orientation is challenging in a world that is rapidly changing. Sexual orientation has been perceived either in terms of discrete categories (homosexual, bisexual, heterosexual) (LeVay & Baldwin, 2014) or as a spectrum. Even if the debate regarding its nature still remains one of the major unsolved questions in sex science (Gangestad, Bailey, & Martin, 2000; Haslam, 1997), in this post I will talk about my personal attitude towards my sexuality, which I believe to be fluid.

romantic-orientation

As you probably remember I defined myself in some posts as a bisexual woman, while in others as a lesbian. This may be confusing for some of you and that’s one of the reasons why I would like to be clearer about it. Until I was 14 I thought to be heterosexual, because I experienced romantic and sexual interests towards people of my opposite sex. However, if I look back at, for example, the 10-years-old “me” I already had some kind of fantasies or desires towards women, which emerged predominantly in the form of dreams or weird thoughts like ‘Is she looking at me? Does she like me? Is she gay?’ At 14 years old I had my first real crush for a girl at my school. After that a really long period of self-analysis began. I started to question my heterosexuality and I looked back at my past to find traces of things that could make me understand who I really was. And I remembered about how many times I asked myself if my English teacher liked me. I remembered a girl at middle school who was defined as a ‘lesbian’ just because she kissed a girl. I remembered thinking that she was gorgeous and looking at her while she smiled at me. Then I remembered my weird relationship with what I believed to be an online friend, how I tried to flirt with her and how I was sexually attracted to her. I remembered that when I was 10 I had a dream where I kissed a girl twice. After a year of deep analysis I came to the conclusion that I’m bisexual. However, my attitude and my attraction towards both sexes is different. I only had relationships with women. I define myself as a homoromantic bisexual because I only experienced romantic attraction towards women (even if I don’t exclude a remote possibility of falling in love with a man). I also believe that my degree of sexual attraction is different depending on the sex of the person involved. The majority of my sexual desires are heterosexual (85-90%), even though I’m also sexually attracted to woman and I had more sex with women than with men. However, my romantic interest in people of the opposite gender is really low. Some people have troubles understanding my sexuality and they don’t like the term homoromantic. They perceive the expression of my preferences as a threat or as a way to label what I am. But why would it be a label? Why is the term bisexual a more acceptable term than bisexual homoromantic? Bisexuality is not 50% attraction towards women and 50% attraction towards men. It’s much more complex than this, just as sexuality itself.
Even though further studies might have to clarify what sexuality is and what its relation to romantic attraction is, in this post I wanted to show you how I define myself and how proud I am to tell you: I am a bisexual. I am a homoromantic!

P. S. I’m not offended if someone uses the term lesbian to define what I am. However, I believe it’s not accurate. I prefer using the term bisexual because I don’t want to erase any part of myself. If I sleep with a man, I’m not straight. If I sleep with a woman, I’m not a lesbian. I’m still bi, I’m still me.
Thank you.

❤ 

UPDATE:

I thought a lot about deleting this article because it doesn’t represent what I am anymore. I believe there’s little research about romantic attraction and I’m not sure if it’s really separated from sexual attraction. While writing this article in August 2017, I found indeed some articles about romantic attraction, but they were just hypotheses. Since some bisexual people had a romantic preference for one of the sexes, they said there may be a difference between romantic and sexual attraction. However, there’s no evidence to prove it. I respect people who use terms as “homoromantic”, “biromantic” or “heteroromantic”. However, I do think that bisexual homoromantic is a word that doesn’t define me anymore. I’m a lesbian and I do fall in love just with women. I was wrong in believing that being a lesbian means excluding someone. It’s not excluding, it’s just being what I am: a woman attracted to women. A woman who loves women and loves sleeping with them.]

[References] 

Gangestad, S. W., Bailey, J. M., & Martin, N. G. (2000). Taxometric analyses of sexual orientation and gender identity. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 78, 1109–1121.
LeVay, S., & Baldwin, J. (2012). Human sexuality (4th ed.). Sunderland, MA: Sinauer
Savin-Williams, Ritch C. “An exploratory study of the categorical versus spectrum nature of sexual orientation.” The Journal of Sex Research 51.4 (2014): 446-453.

 

 

 

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I was raped by a woman (and I’m a woman, too!)  — agosto 4, 2017

I was raped by a woman (and I’m a woman, too!) 

stupro

Once I googled “woman raped by a woman”, hoping to find stories similar to mine. However, I found just a pair of articles, nothing more. That’s also the reason why I decided to share my experience with you. When I was 14 I had troubles accepting my sexuality because I didn’t want to be a lesbian. The term “lesbian” was unacceptable for me. I associated it to pain and fear.

But… Why? Well, when I was 7 something really bad happened to me. The daughter of one of my father’s friends was always really sweet to me. I think she was 15 or 16. I remember we played video games together, we made drawings. She hugged me most of the times. I was happy. I believed I had a friend, I trusted her. But one day…something changed. The first thing I remember is that she kissed me. I didn’t know what sex was. I didn’t know what love was. But I remember that I told myself: “If you don’t like someone and this person kisses you, you gotta push them away. That’s what they do in movies.” And I did it. Once, twice, three times, but she didn’t stop. At the end I just decided to do what she asked me to do. I touched her where she told me to touch. I closed my eyes as she told me to do. “Don’t tell mum and dad. This is our secret.” I knew it was wrong what we were doing. I remember that I found it disgusting. I stopped many times to cough or because I felt like I was going to throw up. But nothing changed, it just went worse. What happened to me shocked me. This rape is part of me now. I’m the result of everything that happens to me and this rape is part of it, whether I want it or not. For many years I believed that she did what she did because she was lesbian. That was all. I believed all lesbians were evil. When I discovered to be bisexual I told myself that I didn’t want to be like her, that I couldn’t like women, that it was wrong. Then I understood. I will never be her, because I do like women, that’s true, but I’m not a pedophile.

What shocked me the most about this whole story were people’s reactions. Some of them told me I invented it, that it can’t be true. Others made fun of me. They told me “yeah, you wanna play the victim now”. But I’m not a victim, I never felt I was. I’m a warrior, I’m a surviver and I’m proud of myself! The most disappointing reaction came from my parents. I remember that I was in the bathroom, crying a lot. When they asked me what was wrong I replied: “She kissed me.” What could I say? I was scared to tell the whole truth. And how could I tell them if I didn’t even know it was sex? They just laughed. My dad said something like: “Oh, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” and my mum’s words were even worse: “You know, we can’t tell anything. She’s the daughter of your father’s friend…”

I don’t care now. I don’t care if people tell me that I invented it. I don’t care if you believe it’s a lie just because it’s not what it’s normally associated to the word “rape”. I just want to share my story because I know that there are somewhere people who experienced something similar. You’re NOT alone. You’re strong and I believe in you. Don’t be scared to tell the truth. I’m sure your voices will be heard.

[ITALIAN – La testimonianza di ciò che è accaduto]

Non mi ricordo molto, avevo sette anni e mezzo. La storia breve è che lei era la figlia di un amico di mio padre e, quello che credevo io, ovviamente, era che mi volesse solo molto bene. Insomma, penso che qualunque bambina che vede una persona che la tratta con dolcezza, ci gioca insieme e cavoli vari allora è ovvio che ci si affeziona. E niente. Premetto che io ho un fratello più grande e comunque quando andavamo da lei, in realtà i miei genitori andavano ovviamente a trovare i loro amici e lasciavano me e mio fratello con lei. Noi giocavamo sempre alla PlayStation, finché un bel giorno questa stramaledetta PlayStation si rompe ed inizia l’incubo…mio fratello era interessato unicamente alla Play quindi eravamo sempre io e lei sole mentre lui stava con i miei, di sotto. E nulla, ho ovviamente i ricordi molto vaghi. Mi ricordo la prima volta che lei si è avvicinata e mi ha baciata. Io sono rimasta interdetta, l’ho solo spinta..non sapevo un cavolo di niente, per me era semplicemente un “faccio quello che ho visto nelle serie tv”, ovvero che quando qualcuno non ti interessa lo respingi. Ma comunque lei ha continuato e mano mano le cose sono sempre più peggiorate. La maggior parte delle volte voleva stare lei sopra di me, altre volte mi costringeva a toccarla e io non capivo bene ovviamente che stavo facendo. E niente, le cose più brutte di questa storia sono state le reazioni della gente. Ai miei genitori, quell’estate ho raccontato semplicemente una volta in lacrime che lei mi avesse baciata. La loro reazione? “E non ce l’ha un ragazzo?” e poi una solita solfa sul “non dover dire nulla, perché è la figlia di un caro amico di tuo padre”. Nessuna domanda su che fosse successo di preciso, nulla. La cosa è stata liquidata in pochi secondi. Mi ha fatto malissimo ed ancora oggi mi sento malissimo se ci penso. In futuro ho provato a raccontare questa cosa. C’è chi si è dispiaciuto per me, c’è chi invece mi ha detto di essermi inventata tutto per attirare attenzioni, perché giustamente secondo loro dovevo avere una storia dolorosa alle spalle per risultare “interessante”. Ancora oggi ho paura ad aprirmi con le persone e questa cosa non l’ho più raccontata a nessuno (a parte la mia ex) da quando mi è stato accusato di inventarmi tutto. Sono stanca di passare per la vittima. Io non sono una vittima! Sono stata forte e ho superato tutto da sola. Nessuno mi ha difesa, nessuno ha cercato di aiutarmi. Quando ho scoperto di essere bisessuale, ho avuto tante difficoltà ad accettarmi soprattutto per questa cosa che mi è successa da piccola. Perché fino a quel momento pensavo che le lesbiche fossero persone cattive e che facessero cose sbagliate. Ho dovuto scindere omosessualità/bisessualità da pedofilia, ho dovuto capire che sono così perché sono così e non per quello che ho subito. Insomma, tante cose. E io ci tengo comunque a raccontare quello che mi è successo, perché non me ne vergogno. Avrei voluto solo sapere perché, perché fare un gesto simile a una bambina di 7 anni. Io l’ho rivista, la rivedo ogni volta che vado a votare. Inutile dire che non mi guarda neanche in faccia. E’ lei quella che si vergogna, non io. Io cammino a testa alta. Altre volte l’ho sognata. Una volta in particolare ho sognato chiaramente che la abbracciavo e che le dicevo di averla perdonata. Perché sì, io l’ho perdonata comunque e soprattutto, ho perdonato me stessa, per essere bisessuale ed essere quella che sono.