Why it's important to trust your gut in romantic relationships

Topics mentioned: dating and relationships, consent, anorexia, self-harm, sexuality, autism

About: Leah reflects on their experience as a teenager of dating a man knowing deep down that they're a lesbian, and how this helped them learn how to listen to their body, trust their gut and find the confidence to embrace who they are. 

I am a lesbian and I dated a man for 6 months during my eighteenth year of life.

You read that right.

Let’s unpack this as I explore queerness, consent, knowing thyself, and trusting our bodies and minds.

My body has female sex organs, but my gender identity is non-binary. When I was born, it was assumed I identified as a girl and so I was socialised to wear dresses and be polite and grow my hair long. There was also an expectation, because of heteronormativity, that I would be romantically and sexually interested in boys. To cut a long story short, I am not. In fact, my adolescent self did not have a strong or even mild interest in pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship at all. My first romantic encounter was when I was 16. A female friend told me she liked me, and I reciprocated this feeling. We went out with eachother for 6 months - it was a short-lived adventure, but I reflect fondly on this time. My family found out, and they reacted with love, not the hatred or anger I had anticipated. 

Two years later, during a shift at my weekly Saturday job, a male colleague who was also 18 at the time asked me out on a date. Context here is important: at this era in my life, my mental health was incredibly poor and I was unwell with an eating disorder called anorexia nervosa. I self-harmed in a few ways, and on reflection, saying ‘yes’ to this colleague’s question was an example of one of them.

For six months, I was in a relationship that resulted in a constant knot in my chest, persistent anxiety and sleeplessness, and an all-consuming sadness. To this day, I’m not certain what possessed me to enter and stay in a heterosexual relationship when, in the deep crevices of my gut, I knew I am a person who is attracted to those of the same sex. Maybe it was societal and/or internalised homophobia, or maybe it was my low self-esteem. Perhaps it was my autistic challenges with interoception (finding it hard to read bodily signals and understand what they mean). Maybe it was perceived expectations from loved ones or peers at school. The reasons are a moot point, in a way, because what happened, happened. The key part of reflecting on an experience is acknowledging what we learnt from it.

And I learnt to trust my gut. Quite literally.

Almost the entire time I was in this relationship, my digestive system went awol. Multiple toilet visits each day, pain in my abdomen, loss of appetite, nausea - unfortunately all making my relationship with food even worse. The disconnect I felt from my body and my identity resulted in me being a passive recipient of my life rather than an active powerhouse setting clear boundaries left, right, and centre. There are some traumas I am working through, 7 years after ending the relationship, and although not my fault, these could have been prevented if I had the tools to know how to listen to my body. 

So, what are those tools? I don’t really have the answer, but I do have some advice I would give to my younger self, i.e., what I learnt.

I am now in the most beautiful and nurturing lesbian relationship where I feel truly safe and loved. My recovery from anorexia has hit a six-year milestone, and I continue going to therapy to help me know myself better. I wish only pure and authentic love for everyone who reads this, the kind of love I am now lucky enough to give and receive.