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bi-curious

ˌbʌɪˈkjʊərɪəs/

adjective

adjective: bicurious

(of a heterosexual person) interested in having a sexual experience with a person of the same sex.

Bi-curious is a curious word, n’est-ce pas?

To have harboured sexual feelings for one gender your whole life, then suddenly find yourself sexually curious about the other is a startling revelation.

It’s one that most definitely caught me off-guard.

What does it mean when you start to seriously wonder what it would be like to have sex with another woman?

What determines when one becomes bi-curious? What’s the trigger?

For me, it was meeting someone whose mind I connected with. 

The fact the person was female was neither here nor there.

But the fact I could feel so strongly sexually attracted to a woman shocked me.

Discovering and acknowledging bi-curiosity knocked me for a six.

I walked past an Anglican church yesterday and was stopped by this ad on an LCD screen out the front:

Firstly, the idea of the church talking about ‘sexual integrity’ almost made me vomit. This, from a bunch of male pedophiles who systematically raped children in their care. The hypocrisy is breathtaking. Dear Church, do not dare consider yourselves experts on goddam integrity.

Next, I’d be willing to bet my house on the fact this preach session would be little more than ‘remain true to your husband, be a good housewife, forgive indiscretions, don’t send nude selfies, love another woman and you’re going to HELL’. Or something along those lines.

Maybe I should turn up for a laugh?!

I have no idea what the church means by ‘sexual integrity’, but to me it means being true to your sexual self.

And that is why I now identify as bi-curious.

Obviously I haven’t stood on a rooftop and shouted it. How you identify sexually is nobody’s business but your own.

But I do wince when I see the name I chose for myself when setting up this blog almost four years ago: Shattered Wife. The word ‘wife’ seems foreign to me now. It sounds like I identified as being someone’s possession.

But that’s how I saw myself all those years ago: as someone who was married, betrayed by someone who supposedly loved me.

Well, fuck that.

I no longer tell people I’m married. It’s been at least three years since I last wore a wedding ring. I no longer volunteer information about my family when speaking to others. I never use the phrase “my husband…” because I no longer consider him as such. 

I want people get to know me for me. Not for who I’m married to. Or for how many children I have.

I am a woman in my own right.

Today, I am a 46-year old, separated, bi-curious woman.

Where I go from here is something I’m still figuring out.

Where does one encounter fellow bi-curious or gay women?

I’ve been researching this with my friend Google and the consensus seems to be ‘just get out there’.

Not particularly helpful advice, I must say. Get out where? Apparently Tinder is the way to go, but I’m not interested.

I’m not bi-curious for the sake of being bi-curious. This isn’t a mid-life crisis nor is it a way to ‘redefine myself’.

It was as simple as falling hard for someone with whom I connected mentally.

Having to move on has been difficult. Not as difficult as having to get over the discovery of an affair — but painful nonetheless.

But that’s life. You don’t always get what you want.

And when you do? 

Celebrate it every day.

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