I was not dating girls! Of course, I wasn’t dating at all, so I don’t suppose it needs a gender qualifier. Before K, there was one long-distance relationship with a girl that went on for ages (to K’s lingering chagrin), but only because I never got around to saying “let’s not.” I’m sorry, I’m exactly that sort of aloof (and had no idea K had feelings for me — I thought she was too cool for that), so it’s probably a good thing I never inflicted myself upon the dating scene.
As for my sexuality before officially gettin’ with K, I had no idea, I didn’t really think about it. I had ambitions of being a priest or a monk until I found out many orders had a thing against vaginas and agnosticism. I avoided the idea of sex from an early age because the very little I almost experimented in it (my subtle way of saying masturbation) was almost immediately squashed by shame and embarrassment. You know that mandatory time a parent catches you doing it? Now imagine that, except minus any explanation, mutual understanding, or even backing out of the room. Just: “don’t do that!” End of story. Life confused FOR A LONG TIME. I was honestly convinced I was the inventor of something new and vile, and up until this point, I had no idea I was the fucking Marquis de Sade at age 5. (Before anyone asks, no, I wasn’t even fantasizing about people or sex. I’m pretty sure it had something to do with non-humanoid robots. Huh.)
For clarification’s sake, I would like to point out the lack-of-sex-talk/approval wasn’t from any religious standpoint, my whole family is just constantly embarrassed of everything and pretend the private intricacies of each other’s lives just don’t happen. We make small talk.
Anywho, the entire gist of that TMI is that sex was so far from my mind that I didn’t bother with sorting out which gender I found attractive or why. When I met K, it just clicked and I was madly attracted to her. I haven’t felt that way about anyone else, I don’t ogle one set of bodies more than another, so I guess the full depths of my sexuality remain a mystery, even to me.
Moral of the Story: Don’t assume your kids know shit about sex. Now they think they’re perverted supervillains. Good job, parenting.