Coming Out Age: 30

Story:

I once heard a quote on a tv show about the history of
 homosexuality: "By the time a woman is old enough and
 emotionally mature enough to realize that she is, in
 fact, a lesbian, she's usually already married." I
 think about this quote a lot.

I've been married for 8 years, since I was 22. I have
 no children (our, mostly *my* choice), and my husband
 is an intelligent, if somewhat troubled man. I've
 known I was attracted to women since college, and it's
 taken all this time to even partially convince myself
 that the same-sex attraction went back so much further
 than that. 

I realize now that so often when I looked at the women
  in my older sister's magazines, I didn't just want
 to be them, I *wanted* them. 

I realize now that so many friendships were colored by
 my attraction, and might have been why I never felt
 comfortable when we did "girly" things. I still can't
 wear pastels without feeling nauseous. 

I realize that my comfort around men, and the reason
 why most of my major friendships have been with men, is
 likely because I didn't feel the rush of confusing
 emotions around them. They were sweet, dumb, easily
 manipulated and didn't make me feel out of control. Girls
 we confusing and foreign, and often cruel.

I've always tended to be in relationships with boys
 and men who needed me more than I needed them. I recall
 numerous times when I would cry at night, not wanting
 to hurt a boy, but desperately wanting to get out of a
 relationship. I knew somehow that it wasn't their
 fault, and that they didn't deserve to be hurt. I never
 considered that maybe I was hurting them by staying and
 being unhappy. And this was high school; oh god, the
 angst. :P

I'm still like this now. My husband and I have
 problems, outside of my orientation. He knows I'm attracted
 to women, and seems ok with it, but sometimes I worry
 that it's only because the idea turns him on. I worry
 that he doesn't take it seriously, and though he says
 he wouldn't mind me having a girlfriend, he doesn't
 seem to understand my constant reminders that I am a
 monogamous person. I don't want more than one lover in a
 relationship. If it's him, it's him, it it's someone
 else, it's someone else. 

There's a running joke that when I drink, I go gay. I
 can't deny that after a drink or two, the women in the
 room become a lot more attractive, but this could be
 a lot of things, few of them good. I worry that I'm
 drinking to feel better about being attracted to women,
 or to experiment with what it would be like if I were
 more courageous. To be clear, I've never even kissed
 anyone but my husband since I've been married, except
 for one incident where a kiss was forced on me by
 another man, and even that brings me frequent guilt. 

I've always been interested in homosexuality and the
 queer community in all its forms, though more openly
 since college. I read fact and fiction of all types, and
 until the last couple of years, I've always told
 myself it was just the "bi" side of me (*facepalm*), or
 that it was my tendency toward seeking equality in
 social issues. I was an officer of my college's Pink
 Triangle Society, though it mostly involved organizing
 dances and buying pretzels and liquor.

I had one somewhat serious girlfriend in college. I
 say serious, because even though there was no sex, and
 little to no kissing, I was strongly attracted to her,
 and to this day am a little heartbroken for the couple
 of months we were together. Eventually, after pushing
 me away, then getting jealous of my intentions toward
 other women and coming back, she decided she was
 straight, and that was it. Worst Valentine's Day ever. I
 fooled around with several other women, and quite a few
 men, but she's the only one I truly regret losing.

I had already met my husband at that point, and we
 were on-again, off-again until his graduation. We were
 engaged the next year, then I graduated and four months
 later, we were married. It's been a rocky road, but I
 have intense emotions toward him, both good and bad,
 and for a long time I'd decided that what love was. I'm
 not so sure anymore. 

I see other couples getting married, working together,
 and even when they fight or disagree, it's not as
 difficult. I really don't enjoy sex with him, unless I
 can distance myself to the point where I can pretend
 it's someone else, often a woman. As a marriage, it's not
 much, is it? But the comfort and familiarity was so
 hard to get to, and now that we've got it, I don't know
 if I want to start all over and take the chance that
 I can find that level of comfort with someone I can
 really love completely.

And then there was HER. She came into my life a few
 years ago. I saw her reading a book I liked, and she
 looked so sweet and friendly that I went over and
 introduced myself, which I have *never* done before. I mean
 NEVER. We became close friends, and eventually it was
 clear to me that I was very attracted to her. She
 confessed, that though she was primarily straight, she'd
 had feelings for a few women, and I was one of them. We
 still flirt, and I jokingly play the predator, and
 we've shared some dances that I'll never forget, but
 we're still just friends. I've started to realize, as time
 goes on, that I'm falling in love with her. 

I can see my future with her in a way I never saw with
 my husband. I never wanted children with him because
 of his emotional issues (and mine, to be fair), but
 when I look at her, I see her holding our children, I
 see us together in fifty years, watching movies together
 in our own place, full of love and understanding. We
 have so much in common, and I respect her in a way
 I've always had to work to respect my husband. She's pink
 and sweet, like the flower and the honey together,
 and I want to cherish her, and I think that she could
 reciprocate that love had we been single when we met.
 She delights me and confuses me, and despite my
 monogamy, I have trouble not taking he hand when we drive
 somewhere together, not leaning over and kissing her when
 we sit together (whether I've been drinking or not).

I'm just so unhappy. Sometimes when I feel that I'm
 attracted to women, I worry that I'm only feeling that
 because I want out of my marriage. On the other hand,
 sometimes I *know* that I want out of my marriage
 because I am only attracted to women, at least in a
 long-term partnership sense. I feel guilt whenever I have the
 slightest attraction to a man, as if it belittles my
 same-sex attraction somehow. 

I'm just so tired. When I started writing this, I was
 passionate and hoping that writing it out would make
 it all clear, that I could stand up at the end and say,
 without a doubt, "I am a lesbian."

But now, even after remembering all my feelings, it's
 still unclear. I know what I feel for HER feels like
 love, the way I always hoped it could be, not the
 raging uneasiness it is with my husband. But again, I like
 the home I have with my husband, I'm honestly
 comfortable never having children with him, and I like the
 stability. Oh god... but what's stability when it's
 empty? I don't know what I am. I don't know if I'm gay or
 bi, heck, even straight, or maybe a big ol' rainbow of
 orientations. 

I know one thing, though. I love her. Today, if
 nothing else, I come out here as loving this woman as so
 much more than a friend, as one who wants a life with her
 and one day might be strong enough to admit it to her
 and my husband and the great big, scary world. 

I'm so screwed. But thanks for listening. It helped.