Dreams and Things

When I was in Kindergarten I had a crush on a girl. I thought she was the most beautiful creature in the world. I invited her to my sixth birthday party and I was so excited when she came. I told her that I thought she was really pretty and she said I was pretty too. When we got our picture packets from picture day, I asked her for a wallet sized one (because that’s what you did in those days). She gave me one and I was so excited that now I could stare at her unblinkingly without it being awkward. 

I showed my mom my class picture then showed her the picture of my friend and told her how pretty that girl was. My mom said the girl was okay looking but definitely not the prettiest girl in the world, not even the prettiest girl in the class. She pointed out another girl and said she was the prettiest girl in the class. I felt so sad about that and I even tried switching my brain around to like that girl, but she didn’t do anything for me. I still looked at the picture of my friend but I looked at it with sadness, I wasn’t allowed to like her. 

In the first grade there was a girl with dark hair named Jennifer Price who sat across the room from me. She was gorgeous. I didn’t try talking to her or making friends with her though. I already learned my lesson. 

When I was sixteen changing for gym overlapped with another class. That was how I met a girl who wasn’t in my gym class, but our lockers were next to each other. We talked for ten minutes every day. I wasn’t struck by her beauty right away, but she always gave such intelligent and interesting perspective on our conversations. I started getting excited about seeing her. When I noticed she was excited about seeing me too and we said hi to each other in the halls, I shut down. I wasn’t allowed to feel that way, whatever it meant. So I started avoiding the locker room and I stopped saying hi to her in the halls. I still feel a little broken hearted about that. 

I sometimes wondered if I was gay because I always looked at women and never looked at men. I decided I wasn’t gay because men scared me and the only reason they would scare me was because I was attracted to them, right? Logic. And besides, I logicked again, Even if I were attracted to women, I could just focus all my sexual energy on men and then I wouldn’t be interested in women any more. Men are attractive too. It would work. (Shudder…)

So I focused on men, sort of. I mean, not really. I didn’t have a serious boyfriend until I was twenty-eight and I didn’t marry him until I was thirty. So I didn’t do a very good job of focusing on men. But I wasn’t finding the cutest girl in every room either, so that was progress. (Mormon progress at least.)

Anyway, while I was married to John, I kept dreaming that I was married to a woman. There was nothing sexual about these dreams, and even though I was raised to believe two married women was an abomination before God, there was nothing strange about it in my dream. But it was always a surprise to me. Wait! I’m married to a woman? And people would say, “Yes, some people marry men and some people marry women. You just happened to marry a woman.” “But I don’t want to be married to a woman!” I tantrumed. 

I always thought these dreams were a reflection on my relationship with John, that it wasn’t what I wanted. I’m not exactly sure. Since marrying Tyler I have not once had a dream about being married to a woman, but I have had sex dreams about women, few and far between, but definitely there. Since dating Charles, I have sex dreams about women almost every night, but they never really work out. There is an undercurrent of tension that upsets the sexuality of the dream. But I’m becoming more aware of my need to be with a woman. 

I’m wondering when I have a woman in my life, will I have more fun with men? But if I only have men, I feel like I’m dying. I’m not sure how all that will work out in the wash, but I’m getting closer to finding out.