Discovering myself. Part 1
My given name is Kathleen Mary Jean, but everyone calls me Katie. I don't know why my parents named me that, as I always hated it. So, from a young age, I was always Katie or Kat. I grew up in a modest middle-class house in the greater Chicagoland area. I went to good schools, had a good family background, and did well. I grew up in the late 80s through the '90s coming of age before the turn of the millennium.
I dated in school like most of us do. I wasn't the most popular girl and was kind of out there at times, so I never got the pick of the litter when it came to boys. When I was in college, I had my first "minor" lesbian experience being drunk at the bar and kissing a girl on the dance floor. You know that old chestnut. I didn't think much of it, never was more than a bit of a make-out session in a club, but it sparked something inside of me that years later turned into a white-hot passion.
After college, I married a man I was absolutely in love with. He never went to college and my associate's degree was in early childhood development. I never did find good work in public grade schools; as I only had a two-year degree, so I never made the cut. I found myself working in a lot of daycares and pre-school settings, but could never land the job I wanted. My husband, at the time, was working for a large cell phone provider as an installer, so even though neither of us had reached our dreams, between us we made good money and were surviving. That is until I got pregnant. I ended up being a stay-home mom for years and after three kids I had started to get older, I decided it was time to go back to work.
I landed a job at a daycare facility and was working but just not feeling happy. I had always suffered from light bouts of depression and anxiety and now that there were more mouths to feed and my pay, along with hubby's wasn't cutting it. The stress of marrying young, the kids, and the bills made our lives tougher increasingly difficult. I was also very down on myself. I had gained a lot of pregnancy weight and even though it had been years since the birth of my last child. I still hadn't lost as much as I wanted. I felt old. I felt fat, I felt unwanted.
One of my co-workers noticed the change in me and after some deep conversations, in which I admitted my feelings and concerns, she recommended a therapist. And even though we didn't have the money, I went and spoke with her. She prescribed me some light anti-depressants and advised me to start changing my life for what I wanted it to be. That same co-worker was big on going to the gym and working out and she asked me if I would like to start going a few days a week after work to start exercising. I wasn't keen on the idea as I was never an active athletic girl, but I thought if I could lose the weight and start feeling better, why not?
I started working out and after a few minor (what felt like) heart attacks and strokes running on the treadmill, I started to lose a bit of weight and started feeling healthier. My time away from hubby and the kids were a bit of a strain, coupled with our financial situation and the arguments that ensued, which led to a whole new set of problems. But I was bound and determined to get better. To feel better. To live better and to become better.
After many close personal workout sessions with my co-worker, I actually began to realize I was attracted to her. She was a few years younger than I was. Way thinner had big ample breasts and always wore these tight little outfits that hugged her body. I didn't know if the attraction was physical or emotional, because I finally had a real good friend and a break away from my monotonous life of work, hubby, kids, dinner, and sleep. Either way, I began to question where I was going in life and whom I wanted to be with. I had never thought about women in that way. And I had never had sexual feelings for any female, even when I had that drunken kiss. But something about her and our time at the gym just got me thinking way more than I should have been. But I surely wasn't going to tell her. And I wasn't going to cross that line of having an affair with a co-worker. I realized that maybe all wasn't as it seemed for me emotionally. And I began questioning everything about me, about life, about love, and about longing and desires.
I kept my feelings and erotic thoughts to myself and just went on with improving myself, and after some time, I lost a decent amount of weight and started feeling better and looking better. My co-worker ended up leaving our daycare center, so after that, I rarely heard from her. She was married with kids and had - what seemed like the perfect life - so even if she was as attracted to me as I was to her, I wasn't going to interfere with that. And even though I lost my workout buddy, I was still bound and determined to keep going and to keep fighting for myself. But the thoughts of women still remained present and focused.
I was at the gym one night later than usual working on the bench press machine when I was approached by a female. I was doing hip lifts off of the bench and she asked me what that exercise did. What muscles did it work? She introduced herself as Rebecca. I spoke with her for a while and we took turns doing reps as she learned something new. I'd see her from time to time and as time went on and we spoke more, I learned more about her.
Rebecca was new to town; she had moved here from central Wisconsin and was working at a factory and doing large catering jobs evenings and weekends to supplement her income. Our conversation went from; how have you been? How are things? To more in-depth lengthy conversations and I grew a fondness of having someone at the gym to talk to and work out with.
One night she asked me if I wanted a second job to make some quick cash doing a side gig as she did. She informed me of the details and after some lengthy conversations with my hubby, I agreed to work with her. Let me just relate at this point the hubby and I were estranged. The love and lust between us was gone. We barely spent any time alone and both of us wanted out of this marriage. As hard as it was for either one of us to admit, let alone accept. We knew it was time. I was looking for other places to live and he was planning on just moving back home with his mom, until after things were settled and he knew where he'd be financially.
I started working catering jobs with Rebecca. They were mostly Friday or Saturday nights. Usually at high-class museums, sporting events, or private parties. The work wasn't hard, just a few hours of walking around with trays of hours devours, or champagne, or serving plates of food to guests at tables. Plus, I didn't have to be home with him. It made for a long day to work evenings after working all day at my regular job, but the $150.00 to $200.00 extra per night, made it all worth the while.
I grew a fondness for the people I was working with, the job, and the extra money. But through it all, I grew a fondness for Rebecca. She was always friendly, open, and chatty and she looked so sexy in those tight black pants and white shirt serving outfits. Hard to be attracted to someone in that outfit, right? But something about her had my attention.
I was falling for her. And it scared me to death. Where were these feelings coming from? Why was I attracted to her? Was it because my marriage was over? Because I hadn't been laid in well over a year. My recent attraction to my old co-worker? To certain females? Was I a lesbian and just never realized it? All I knew is I wanted her.
In my head, I thought things I had never thought I'd ever think or even say. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to make out with her. I wanted to be alone and slowly undress her and touch her. I wanted to have sex with her. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to eat her pussy. I wanted her face in between my legs. I wanted it all! I'd get so wet and so turned on by talking to her. Watching her, working with her, taking smoke breaks with her. But I just couldn't pull the trigger and ask her out, or make a move. I was still that shy, outcast, chubby little girl from years past, who never believed in herself or what she could accomplish.
Enter Matthew. Matthew joined our crew about 3 months after I started working. He was young and naive, but a good guy. He befriended Rebecca and I quickly and the three of us became inseparable. Matthew was into me, but I wasn't into him. He was in his early 20's, while at this moment I was already 35, divorcing, three kids, and wouldn't even consider him as a boyfriend or husband material. And besides, I had done the boyfriend and marriage thing and that didn't pan out as planned. Plus - to be honest here - I wanted Rebecca. One late night some weeks later as we were finishing up a job in downtown, Matthew was pushing the issue of dating me and I was shrugging him off as usual, when during our conversation my filter stopped working and I slipped up.
"Common Katie, you know I like you. We should go out to dinner and a movie and see each other out of work." He spoke.
"Matthew, I have told you several times, that you're too young for me. Plus, I'm not quite divorced yet." I replied with a sinister smile on my face.
"Yeah, but that's exactly my point Katie, we could start slowly and when it's all over with him, you can be with me." He replied.
"Look Matthew," I answered sharply. "You're a sweetheart and I am flattered. But if I was going to date anyone here, it would be Rebecca, not you."
My head dropped the moment I said it; because I knew what I just blurted out. What had just slipped from my lips. I knew he heard it and I knew I said it aloud. And more importantly, I knew I finally had admitted something out loud instead of just to myself.
