Google Told Me That I Was A Lesbian

It was October, clearly everyone’s favorite month! My friends and I went to this neighborhood bar. Bulldog’s. You know, the mediocre place where everyone from your high school graduating class goes to drink when they’re home on college break? Bar closes and we just move on. Another bar in our neighborhood… Mangy’s. Oh my god. Mangy Dawgs. Nothing good ever happens at Mangy’s, but for some reason, my friends and I always ended up there. Mostly because it’s open late and I knew a bunch of people who would hang out there who would buy us drinks. And duh, why would we want to go home after Bulldog’s when we can go to Mangy’s and make poor decisions? 

We would always run into this asshole from high school. He was like, 4 years older than us, totally wanted to bang us, and he always cheated on his girlfriend (not with us, that’s for sure). He’s really not important other than he used to drive me home from Mangy’s. Like I said, nothing good ever comes from Mangy’s.

I wasn’t totally blacked out, but the night is a little blurry. The asshole from high school drove my friend and me home. I don’t remember exactly how this came up, but all of a sudden I’m in the back seat of his Ford Fusion, in my friend’s driveway, and he’s watching us make out. I don’t even know how long it was for, but it was a while. As much as I hate to admit it, I was so into it. I’m pretty sure I felt my friend up that night. What the fuck was I thinking?! To this day, I’m just happy she was blacked out for it.

Whatever. I had two thoughts on the way home.

My first thought when I got into the front seat of the car was, did I just get my period, or am I just really turned on right now? And my second thought was, why don’t I kiss men like that? 

And no, I didn’t get my period. I was literally soaked through my leggings and I didn’t want to admit that I just loved kissing her.

At the time I was already moved out of my parent’s house (don’t be too proud of me, my parents pay my rent) so I didn’t really have a good place to sleep when I stayed out in the suburbs. Who even goes to the suburbs, anyway?! I had a little mattress on the floor of my parent’s old bedroom and some old blankets that I didn’t feel were worth me taking to my Chicago apartment.

I woke up the next morning and I honestly cried a little. I remember, sitting on that twin bed, wrapped in my pink cheetah print blanket. So, does she remember? Should I call her? Should I avoid her? 

As much as I was concerned about her, I was more concerned about the fact that kissing her was great and I was pretty sure I wanted to kiss women for the rest of my life. I honestly knew that morning that I was going to end up being gay, just from that night.

I’m embarrassed to even say this, but I was Googling all kinds of shit. Am I a lesbian if I like kissing girls? How do I know if I’m gay? Could you like sex with men but still be a lesbian? If I watch lesbian porn am I a lesbian? (LOL). I’m laughing right now. I can’t believe I really sat there looking this crazy shit up. But I’m not kidding, I went through every forum, and bullshit page that had answers to my crazy questions.

Anyway, I didn’t find many answers. But one thing that stuck with me was a comment on some page that said,

“If you’re looking up whether or not you’re a lesbian on Google, you are a lesbian.”

That couldn’t be more accurate!

I was so ashamed of myself and I ignored every emotion that I felt. I continued on with my life. No way I’m gay. I would have known by now. 

Well, a year and a half later I found myself in the same position with another girl at a bar. All I could remember is how Google told me that if I am Googling whether or not I am a lesbian, then I’m a lesbian. I mean, I guess the kissing girls in bars thing would give it away, too.

It is now exactly two years since Google basically put my ass in place and told me that I was a lesbian, and I couldn’t be happier. Maybe I just wasn’t ready back then to accept and embrace my sexuality. Everyone grows and comes out at their own time. I know that I wouldn’t have been able to emotionally handle coming out two years ago, but today I am stronger and I am the happiest I’ve ever been in life.

So basically, two things.

1) Thanks, Google.

2) I’ll save you some trouble. If you ever Google’d about whether or not you’re gay, then you’re gay. You’re welcome. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

About the author

Chicago. Cat mom. Coffee Addict. Medical field.

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