I am sitting on top of a mountain. It took me years to climb to this spot. Behind me is a cross the Franciscan brothers erected. Before me are two paths – one mowed and one through the pinewoods. The Franciscans’ were kind enough to build a bench here and I sit – rejuvenating my sore body and quenching my thirst with breath and water.

I am staring at the ground and notice an ant, crawling and hauling a dead bug. It stumbles over grass and dirt, in between rocks, yet continues on its quest to lay this dead body to rest.

I was staring at this ant for so long that my eyes began to blur. The entire space of ground in front of me started moving – pulsing with life. There were hundreds of ants, spiders, crickets, moths – interacting, communing and scattering… each with a job – each with purpose and determination. Not one lone ant – so limitedly focused – NO – broaden the vision, let go of constraints and life is teaming about under my feet.

I looked up in amazement at what I had been blinded to my entire life. And, again, noticed not just the two paths, but the horizon, the miles and miles of hills and mountain peaks, speckled with tress, birds flying and chattering, squirrels, and frogs – butterflies – color splashed from flowers. Every inch around me is alive. This is how I feel now that I understand my sexuality – my love and passion for my gender. Alive. Open. Free.

I am so grateful to be on this journey of self-discovery, self-acceptance, and adoration of the person that God has made me.

At first, when I started accepting what I always knew, I felt explosions of pure bliss and ecstasy – even without ever having been with a woman. It was if I realized I was a beautiful rainbow of brilliant opaque colors trying to live in a world of black, white and grays. I want to flourish in my uniqueness and finally release my charismatic passion for women.

But it was like an internal big bang. Every particle of sensuality, sexuality and vibrancy had been in a pressure cooker for years. Saying and accepting the words – I am a lesbian – made this pulsating quasar of lust and love explode in all directions. I didn’t know where to turn, what to do – so willing to offer myself to any willing partner. Thank God – and I do mean that quite literally – despite my manipulative efforts at doing so – I have not offered my delicious delights to anyone as yet. I am learning, listening, praying, trying to be open and trying to hear these important messages through the muffling and blinding veil of hormonal sparks and chemicals that send my entire body and mind soaring away from clarity.

I am learning that I am a strong, intelligent, creative and passionate woman. In the heterosexual world, I needed to tame this, dull it down, and preserve the social norms. In my world of womanly love, my strength, intelligence, passion, creativity and independence are valued, and promoted. Unlike when I chose to live as a heterosexual due to my Christian upbringing, I now believe that I have the ability to value my beliefs, my pursuits, and my self in this new world. This is my group of people. This is where I am meant to be – and I feel honored to be a member of this beautiful population – I am a Christian lesbian!

I need to learn how to paint with these new tubes of color I have been given. Initially, the thrill of these colors made me grab – snatch – squeeze – making huge blobs of viscous emotions, openness, and lust. To love is an art. Take little dabs of color from the tube, play with it on the pallet, smear it in swirls with a brush, and then take a small amount and delicately use it to create and embellish a blank canvas into new life and long lasting love. I am looking forward to painting this painting – with a wonderful Christian, lesbian woman – where we grow together spiritually, emotionally, intellectually – while drawing the graffiti of the story we nurture on each other. Hmmm…. Life suddenly looks delicious.