“I’m a woman in love with your mama.” These are the words I used when my girlfriend’s daughter asked me how I identify. It wasn’t a simple answer, and it certainly didn’t fit neatly into any pre-defined box. As someone who has loved both men and women deeply, I, like many others, find myself navigating the complexities of sexuality and identity in a world that often demands labels. This journey resonates with stories like that of Chirlane McCray, former First Lady of New York City, who famously identified as a “black lesbian” in her youth but later married Bill De Blasio. Her story, and mine, highlight the fluid and personal nature of love and attraction, especially When A Woman Loves A woman.
The confusion surrounding McCray’s sexuality, as voiced by a commenter called “Czar of Truth,” is understandable. The question, “So which is it?” reflects a common societal pressure to categorize and define sexuality as fixed and unchanging. McCray herself attempted to clarify, explaining she “put aside the assumptions I had about the form and package my love would come in.” This sentiment echoes my own experience. After two marriages to men and now in a committed relationship with a woman, I’ve resisted labels like “lesbian” or “bisexual.” It’s not that these terms are offensive, but they don’t fully capture the nuances of my experience.
Author and partnerMy personal exploration began after my second marriage ended, triggered by my re-acknowledged desire for women. I embarked on a journey of self-discovery, searching for a defining moment, a clear sign from my past that would explain my attractions. But instead of a singular revelation, I found a pattern of deep love for both men and women. This internal research led me to Lisa Diamond’s groundbreaking book, Sexual Fluidity: Understanding Women’s Love and Desire. Diamond’s research illuminates that for many women, sexual desire is fluid, shaped more by the individual than by gender. Hearing this felt like a revelation, a validation of my own lived experience.
Yet, the world often pushes for categorization. Friends, both gay and straight, have urged me to choose an identity. The argument for labels often centers on societal structures – legal rights, marriage equality, and the need for clear definitions. Labels serve a purpose in a world that functions on categorization. However, when it comes to personal identity, particularly in matters of the heart, these boxes can feel constricting. As McCray wisely stated in an Essence interview, “I am more than just a label… Labels put people in boxes, and those boxes are shaped like coffins.” Her friend Vanessa’s perspective further simplifies it: “It’s not whom you love; it’s that you love.”
The question remains: why the resistance to labels like “bisexual” or “queer,” terms that seemingly embrace the “gray area”? These are valid questions, and perhaps the answer lies in the ever-evolving nature of personal identity and attraction. McCray’s response in a HuffPost interview, “Why should I explain my sexuality?” followed by, “I don’t know what I’ll be like next year or 10 years from now,” speaks volumes. Sexuality, like life, is not static. People change, grow, and evolve, and our understanding of ourselves and our desires can shift over time.
While I cannot envision a future where I am romantically involved with a man, definitively labeling myself a lesbian feels equally limiting. Perhaps, as McCray suggests, it takes courage to live authentically outside of societal norms and expectations, in a space where definitions are less important than genuine connection. So, to answer the initial question of what happens when a woman loves a woman, or a man, or anyone in between – it’s about love in its purest form. It’s about recognizing the human connection that transcends labels and definitions. It’s about acknowledging that sometimes, love doesn’t always make sense, either to ourselves or to those around us, but it is real and valid nonetheless. Ultimately, maybe the most accurate label is simply “a human being who loves.”
