Is it possible for a caterpillar to begin its transformation into a butterfly, only to have that transformation halted? Suspended? I am not an expert in butterfly biology, so I don't have the answer. From a metaphorical standpoint, though, that was the case for me.

It took awhile, during adolescence, to make my way through the awkward stage (dubious hairstyle and clothing choices didn't help matters, either). Finally, around age 14, I blossomed. The braces came off, my height caught up to my weight, and I got a decent haircut. I'll tell you, it's a huge ego boost to suddenly be sought after by members of the opposite sex. It was exhilarating.

The next year, I started high school and my popularity with boys continued and rose. I had a view of sex different from other girls my age – I didn't view sex and love as being interchangeable and automatically entwined.. I could enjoy sexual experiences without assigning feelings of love to them – enjoy them for the physical experience they were (though I would only sleep with people I would consider a friend, something that remains true to this day).

Then came college... ah, the freedom of dorm life, being 300 miles away from one's parents, joining a sorority, and discovering the many "social" opportunities in a big college town. I became a serial monogamist (this is a term a friend once used and one that I have shamelessly borrowed). I quickly entered relationships, and ended them in a matter of months. When between relationships, I saw no problem with fucking anyone I cared to.

At this point in our story, I would ask that readers not psychoanalyze me or my behavior. Trust me – I have reflected on all of this quite a bit (and don't ask about my childhood! LOL)

I met my (now ex) husband while I was in college, still living the good life. He was about six years older than me – we met through friends. He and I became very close, romantic, and about a year and a half later, got married.

We married soon after I turned 22. He was 28. We actually eloped, believe it or not. And, when we walked out of the building after being married, I looked at the ring on my finger and felt sick to my stomach. I thought, "My God, what have I done? I have just made the biggest mistake of my life."

“I saw myself with a man and a woman.
I felt him, I tasted her, and I loved it.”

That doesn't seem to bode well, does it? However, this is my story of transformation, so please bear with me.

No regrets in life, right? The best course of action is to learn from mistakes. Whether I made a mistake is not known, and the three children that resulted are certainly NOT a mistake.

I won't get into details, but my married life was one of classic suburbia. The man I married turned out to be very controlling and over the years I slowly learned the "correct" way to behave (think of Pavlov's conditioning techniques). I learned the script and that deviation from that script was unacceptable. As time went on, my personality "devolved" to more "appropriately" complement his.

As time went on, I felt myself deadening, sexually. It was so subtle that I didn't really see it happening at the time. It reached the point where I didn't think about sex. Masturbation? HA! It didn't even cross my mind. Sex became routine, boring, and infrequent. It was part of the script.

Then, a series of events occurred which opened my eyes to what I and my life had become. Have you ever felt like you've been shaken awake and wonder, "how in the hell did I end up here?" It was like I'd been in some strange coma – waking up to a reality that was mine, yet it couldn't be mine because this wasn't *ME*

I started becoming reacquainted with my body. I had not touched myself, sexually, in years. Were my nipples really this sensitive? Hmmmmm... yes. They were. They are. Just stroking them made me wet.

I started experimenting with pussy grooming. After very little sex for many years, I had been doing no upkeep beyond the bikini line. I started by closely trimming the hair and found that I felt more aroused already, just by seeing my pussy lips and my clit peeking out.

I decided to go further and went for the Brazilian. Damn, I loved how soft my skin felt, how smooth... the feel of silk against my pussy lips... learning that I could cross my legs, squeeze my thighs, and feel soooo good.

My explorations began in earnest. I replaced my shower head with one that had a handheld attachment. I could have the water raining down on me and also use the handheld to tease and arouse myself. Soon shower time became pleasure time.

And as I started to explore my body, I also explored my fantasies.

My fantasies surprised me, yet they didn't; not when I really thought about myself. As I touched myself, as I re-learned my body and what gave me pleasure, I also discovered that I found women sexually attractive.

“I wasn't being true to myself. I was living someone
else's life. I knew I couldn't keep living this way.”

I'd always found women fascinating. In locker rooms, I'd discreetly glance at women as they stripped down after a workout. I had always told myself that I was just making normal comparisons... I was looking at them to see how I measured up.

Wrong.

I was looking at them and finding them beautiful and exciting.

For nearly 20 years I'd been denying that fact. And what did it take for me to realize that?

It was so simple. It took one afternoon, home alone, in the shower.

As I was stroking myself, giving myself the pleasure that my body so craved... as I felt myself closer to orgasm... an image filled my mind. It was an image that overwhelmed me more than any orgasm has.

I saw myself with a man and a woman. I felt him, I tasted her, and I loved it. And, that day alone in the shower, I came hard, seeing the three of us in my mind.

I was shaken to the core by this realization.

Wrapping myself in a towel, I lay on my bed, thinking about what happened... realizing that I'd just recognized something that had been hidden deep inside me for so long. I'd had hints over the years, glimpses that I'd ignored. My experience in the shower made it clear to me, though. It wasn't just men I wanted. I also wanted women.

I wanted to touch a woman, stroke her, and taste her. Just thinking about it started to arouse me again. I thought back to the women I'd known... friends, colleagues, even clients. I'd felt an attraction to them. At the time, I'd written it off as an "aesthetic appreciation" Clearly, I was wrong.

But what in the hell was I supposed to do with that? Remember, I was still vanilla (in fact I was so vanilla, I'd never heard the term vanilla!)

Not long after, things got very bad in my marriage. That, combined with my realizations and continued awakening, made me realize that I wasn't being true to myself. I was living someone else's life. I knew I couldn't keep living this way.

My marriage ended and I was finally free to explore my true self... and become acquainted with my true sexuality.

Looking back, I realize that if I'd not gotten married, I likely would have discovered my bisexuality and love of the Lifestyle sooner. Do I regret this "time lost"? No. I've learned to stop secondguessing my decisions. Yes, it's important to learn from experiences, but regrets about the past only serve to steal energy from the present.

If you are seeking advice, well, I am not sure I have any advice beyond, "be true to yourself." Life is too short, too precious, to spend time living a life that is not true to you. I'm not advocating selfishness, or self-absorption.

But this is the only life you have. So, what are you waiting for?

Live it!