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Homoflexible

Skyspook: You say you don’t have strong opinions, but you do.

Me: Oh yeah?

Skyspook: It’s because it’s something you value about yourself , that you’re unopinionated, that you don’t have preferences. Even though you do.

-”Seen” 

*

It’s interesting what Fetlife does and doesn’t think is important to announce to one’s friends stream.

Sunday evening I changed my sexual orientation from “pansexual” to “homoflexible,” and Fet said “meh,” shrugged its shoulders, and went on its way. Meanwhile, if I move a comma in one of my writings, Fet announces this proudly to the world at large.

I have written in the past about my sexual orientation. I know it’s quite acceptable in our little community to forever be on the way to something, to be “evolving,” but I must say that the last time I really shifted on the matter of sexual orientation was at 18 when I discovered that bisexuality was actually a reality and ceased my habit at the time of declaring myself straight or gay to my friends depending on whomever I was pursuing at the time, a practice that was particularly confusing when boys and girls were both in the mix, as they often were.

So, homoflexible. What brought about this realization? Lots of things, really.

As I’ve shared stories about my life and past sexual experiences with Skyspook, the narrative is one of a naturally gay girl who developed ways to interact sexually with guys after her bisexual/straight female lovers kept leaving her for men. Through purposeful repeated exposure and the magic of psychological conditioning, I even developed a number of male-specific fetishes (fellatio, cum, etc).

But broadly, as a general rule, I really am way more attracted to girls than I am to guys. This is apparently obvious to those I date – I check out girls to guys at about a 20:1 ratio.

While I’ve had better luck relationship-wise with guys, my casual sexual encounters have been overwhelmingly with girls and predominantly straight/bicurious/ and/or Kinsey 1 girls. In the past, I’ve been a bi litmus strip for them, a safe girl to jump into bed with to see if they really want to play for both teams or just think the jerseys look cute.

At one point in my life, I took a lot of pride in being a straight-up Kinsey 3. It seemed more enlightened somehow. Identity is a funny thing, y’know?

But it’s become painfully clear the past few months now that I’ve been dating on a base of secure emotional attachment that guys are just not doing it for me the way girls are.

I’m  not sure where genderqueerness and transgenderism factor into all of this exactly, other than the fact that my genitals seem to arbitrarily assign even cisgendered people a gender and behave accordingly, and sometimes this isn’t consistent with their gender identity or biological sex. For example, despite the fact it’s a big old cliche (“I’m just a lesbian trapped in a man’s body, baby”), my body really does believe Skyspook is a woman with a penis. Though decently rare, this is completely involuntary. My sexy spidey sense is immediate and resolute. My brain will endeavor to use your preferred pronoun all day long, but my body will arrogantly persist in its judgement. I find this fascinating, although sometimes very draining and productive of cognitive dissonance.

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The difference between homoflexible and pansexual might seem like an intellectual distinction, except that it’s really not. As I’ve been looking back on the past few months, I know the Kinsey 4-5 was a factor in why things fizzled with CC and why I couldn’t seem to even really start a fire with another guy I really WANTED to be into because I liked his brain so much but just couldn’t manage to be physically attracted to him.

My brain wants to be pansexual or sapiosexual but my body? Homoflexible.

I’m letting my body win this one.

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