failed2be-chill:

When I was primary school age I kissed a girl and stored the memory away and it is now one of the few memories I have left of bringing friends over even though I know I had lots of friends play at my house when I was little. And little tiny lesbian me didn’t even notice that I was a huge lesbian, although I definitely remember picking up on the girl’s odd reaction to the kiss.

I’m trying to convince myself that it was just a kiss on the cheek and I’m remembering it wrong with my revisionist history, but I just can’t say it was a kiss on the cheek because I know it wasn’t. I know the girl reacted strangely because I kissed her lips. I know she never came to my house again after that. In fact, she moved away and I never saw her again. And I buried the memory. I buried it so far down that I only now remembered it. I mean, I remembered it before now, but not the significance of it.

I had my first kiss in my old house in the living room by the piano before I was nine years old with a girl called Hannah from Kidderminster who had blonde hair and made me laugh. And it was so natural on my side that it took me over ten years before I could realise what it was. In fact, it makes me think that maybe it wasn’t even my first kiss, but rather my first kiss with Hannah. That maybe I kissed other girls, just pecks on the lips, even before then and that’s why I saw nothing strange about doing so with Hannah.

Tl;dr tiny me was a lesbian and doing lesbian things before I even knew the word lesbian and maybe I didn’t miss out on all the potential of being a young girl liking girls, maybe I did have that childhood but just didn’t notice the significance of it, or repressed the memories as I got older.