Change [Part II]

“Hmm. That’s it,” I said, feeling numb, like I was having an out of body experience.

I turned to look at her. To see how she was reacting.

“I knew it. I knew it 2 years back. I asked A. She said no.”

It was my turn to be surprised. A was my best friend and she had mentioned nothing about this to me.

“You did?”


We spoke about it. Discussed. She asked how I was so sure about how I felt. I told her it wasn’t a decision I had taken overnight. That it had taken me years to understand and accept this. That it had been just a little over a year since I had admitted it to myself. That it wasn’t a choice I had made. She took it well. Better than I had expected. No tears. Just two adults talking. She suggested that maybe I need to see a counselor. That maybe it was a mental block. She felt that it was normal for women to experiment. Even she had. I resisted the urge to pursue that confession and instead told her how I was sure about what I prefer. That there was no block. There had been no abuse or any other incident to make me feel this way. That I had been introspecting and thinking about it since I was 20 years old.

We hugged. I cried with relief. Knowing I finally had someone I called family on my side. Knowing I wasn’t rejected for something that had not been my choice. Hearing I wouldn’t be loved any less.

Today morning she revealed that she had told her husband. I cringed, because I had asked her not to. But I was surprised yet again. Apparently, he was very accepting as well. He told her that they should be supportive of me, no matter what. That it wasn’t something I had chosen and therefore it shouldn’t stop me from enjoying my life. He wants the three of us to sit down and talk.

I walked around the house, with a smile on my face. Thinking. Imagining. It felt as if a whole new world had opened up. I might have someone I can call my own. I wouldn’t have to hide. I would have a home. A family of two, maybe three. And my sister would come visit. Continue to be part of my life. Her family and mine.  Anything was possible. Everything was possible. I was free to live. I was free to be me.

I have never been happier. I have never felt lighter. I have never felt more alive. And the future has never been clearer. I can see it now.

And it’s filled with hope, joy and love.


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Lady Jughead lives and writes in the city she loves and hates, Bombay. Without meaning to and harbouring mixed feelings about it (You’ll see the irony in just a bit), she’s forever wandering in the murkiness that exists between straight and gay, clear and clueless, butch and femme, cute and hot, and genius and insane. All of which leave her with a question that often occupies a significant portion of her cognitive capacity – is she Just Perfect or is she falling fast into the deep chasm of obscurity called Just Average?
Lady Jughead

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