on being a backsliding queer or something like that

As we were falling asleep the other night I asked my sweetheart if he thought of me as “straight.”

“You know,” he said groggily. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“Really?” I asked very surprised. We’ve been together for 7 years now and he knows about pretty much most of my private business including their genders.

“I mean when we met I knew you were interested in me. That’s all I needed to know.”

Fair enough. It’s not like I have been very forthcoming about labeling my experiences into some kind of cohesive identity anyway, (I have my reasons.) So this person shares my bed, has gone through jobs, grad school and funerals with me. He calls us, our little unit of 2, a family. And yet he feels no need to define the terms of my sexuality, because our partnership is not about him owning every little piece of me. And if you have ever felt like an object for consumption, or like your body or your sexuality is being co-opted for somebody else, I hope you get to have someone in your life that is happy to be there but sees you as an equal and doesn’t fill in all the blanks to suit their own fantasies.