I Promised
I think I started figuring out that I was gay long before I had the words for it.
When I was in Class 5 or 6, I had two friends who were especially close to me. We were the kind of friends who were always together. One day, I saw them being intimate with each other while we were in class. Like ile kupitisha mkono kwa neckline to get to the boobs, you know. I remember feeling something I could not quite explain. I was jealous. I wanted that closeness too, but I did not understand why.
At the time, though, we did not talk about what I had seen. They knew I had seen them, and somehow we just moved on.
Around that same age, I had a tiny blue notebook. One day, I wrote four words in it: “I am homosexual.” I did not really understand what I was writing. I think part of me was trying to give a name to something I already felt.
I later found my grandmother using that same notebook to write Bible verses. I know she found the page and tore it out. She never talked about it.
Then there were other little moments.
During a high school visit, I remember seeing a high schooler twerking and thinking, “Oh my.” There was also a beautiful aunt I found myself attracted to. I even imagined what it would be like to sleep beside her, although nothing ever happened.
At the time, I did not collect these moments and think, “This means I am gay.” They were just strange little feelings that I kept to myself.
Then, when I was about 19, a friend sent me my first pron video. Smartphones and easy internet access were still relatively new to me, so I had never really thought about searching for pnor myself. The video was w/w.
I watched it.
And that was another moment where something clicked, even if I still did not fully understand what it meant.
Looking back now, I can see how many clues were sitting there.
I just did not put the pieces together.
Sometimes I wish I had figured it out before going to campus. I envy people who got to explore their sexuality there, meet women, date, make mistakes, and learn what they actually wanted. By the time I got to campus, I was still carrying so much fear and uncertainty.
I remember liking a woman and trying to “katia” her through a text instead of approaching her in person. I was too scared to say anything face-to-face. She eventually found out who I was, but we never really talked.
That feels almost funny now, but it also makes me wonder how different things might have been if I had understood myself earlier.
Maybe there was never one exact moment when I figured out I was gay. Maybe it was a collection of moments I kept dismissing because I did not have the language, confidence, or freedom to understand them.
The little blue notebook probably knew before I did.