I AM A BUTCH LESBIAN WHO GOT PREGNANT AND I AM ASHAME OF IT

My name is Nozipho.  I am what you will call a butch lesbian They call me Mazi.  Incidentally Mazi is my grandfather; I  look like him, I have been told. That is my alta ego. He is the most domineering personality in me.   I grew up at Mpumalanga with my two  sisters. From when I was a kid I identified with boys. I was the boy my parents never had. I played good soccer, dribbled real men to fall of their chairs. I liked tug games that I was excellent in. I also collected wood.

I have a husky deep voice and a little Adams apple that I always wished cracked when I was teenager so that I could sing in the bass in our church choir.   My body structure confused a lot. Many asked if I am a man or woman. Thank God I grew up in the 90’s where girls could wear pens at school. I have been on my grey pens all the time.

I was a late bloomer with my sexual growth. My breast started growing when I was 16, not so visible.  I don’t wear a bra to date, there is no need.  I have menstruated occasionally but it never bothered me cos I hated menstruation. I was a sport active little girl, or should I say boy. I knew I was a lesbian when I was 17years. We were on the trip for inter athletics with other schools on the outskirt of town. I met this feminine woman, at the change room.  It was in the evening after running 10kms.  I had come out the third. Had this medal on my chest.  She walked up to me and gave me the best lip  kiss ever, without saying a word, and walked away. That left me shattered forever. I still want to meet her again. 

And to many gals I was a handsome boy. My parents encouraged me to wear dresses. My  play friends used to laugh at me cos I looked weird in them. I actually looked like a drag queen when I am strutting them. So I liked wearing pants.  I also enjoyed mechanics, and fixing the garden.  I hated home chores. I did not do as well as I should have at school cos I did not fit in. Gals could not hang with me. Boys bullied me. I did not manage to pass with flying colors as my parents expected. I could not go to varsity to pursue my career in engineer.

I ended up at college to do electronics, ended up at a shop fixing TV’S and fridges. I am earning at list every month. Two years ago with my friends we went to watch soccer with my buddies Peter and Mzi. I find myself attracted to a lady called Philile. She was with her female friends at  my house warming party in a township where I had just bought a house. It seems people here thought I was a men. I liked how my identity was concealed. I felt secure knowing that they will not break into my house cos I am a woman. I went out to smoke and she followed me outside and asked for the puff.  I was amazed at how my body reacted to her presence. I wore a staccato, my hands were shaking. And she noticed. She actually asked what is troubling me. I smiled coyly and told her that I am attracted to her since she walked into the room. I was surprised that she seemed to know what I was talking about. She smiled back, gave me this hug and a smudge kiss on my chick.

I am not sure if she knew I was a lesbian. I was not sure if I was a lesbian. I had never had sex with men. I did not see them in that way. I was not sure what will I do if I had to be with a women. I had not spoken to any lesbian about how they engaged sexually. After a few bottles of alcohols, I invited her to come seat on my lap, and she obliged with ease. I gave her back a beautiful kiss. I liked the feeling I was horny. Did not know how it feels to be horny.  I liked how we connected. She did not leave the house. We both stayed behind and kissed.

I was about to tell her, that I am not a man by any chance when she silenced me and said she knows. At the time she was fondling my beautiful pubic grid. I swear I grew a penis that day. We made love like there is no other day to connect with each other. I loved her. I wished she moved in the following day. Well, she stayed 25kms away from my house. She came every weekend to visit me. Actually she introduced me to other women who loved other women like me, with whom we had good contact through Facebook.

I associated myself with men. I was the man of my house. I loved the feeling of being that Philile shared with me. I was totally blown away by her presence.  I was going to marry her, I also liked that I needed to start saving for ilobola. It is in later months into our relationship that some of these newly acquired friends invited me to an outing in a park where we were going to have a picnic. I liked that. I also love the thought that I had an opportunity to meet other women, she was working on that weekend. I also planned to connect with young men whom I gladly call my Facebook friends, my friends.

I prepared 12 pack of my favourite Sminorff. I also brought a bottle of Knightwatch whiskey to top just in case we needed more. I had my meat and rolls and firewood. I started a little early to drink, so that I am not as shy when we meet with my Facebook friends. Well I don’t remember if I ate. But I know I was tipsy when I final got there. There were lots of people with whom we interacted with ease. It seemed though that I was the only on odd one in the group

 Too many beautiful women. I was hoping to try my luck. I am sure the more I drank the more I pursued more.  As it was getting late I like the comfort of assurance from one of the boys who told me that they will offer me transport back to my house. He said he stayed a few blocks from my house. You see I loved Philile but she was my first. I had a feeling that I am wrapped in her fingers. She knows that I have never met other women, and she is the only woman I know. Some days I felt enslaved by that.

In this group we had lots of buddies whom I continuously supplied with buzz. There was this one who seemed to care for my wellbeing. He made sure my glass if full. I cant remember his name. I think he said Thokozani, or Thulani, or Mtho. I don’t remember.  I liked  the comfort of knowing that he could be a good buddy too, when we go back to the township.  Good that he knows so many women too. I will have a snack or two. In the meantime.

When it got darker, I was comfortable downing two more shots, or was it four of the whiskey. I know that I had to go hide behind the bushes to relieve myself. And the man that I am had to lower my pants, lower my body each time I was there. I am sure my male friend was alarmed that the man that I am would have change into a woman as the night progressed.

Another party was organized while were there, and I like the assurance from this newly find friend that they will drop me at my house. I was getting drunker. I don’t remember the second party.  I sketchily remember hitting the ground.  And some men taking turns to feed off me. And I was helpless. Too intoxicated to remember. Too pained to scream .  And I woke up alone in the morning with my pants and blood stainted panties off. I was raped.

I know that when you are raped you can go to the police station and report your case. I wished I could. But what story do I tell them. That I was raped by strangers I assumed to be my friends for a day. And that I don’t remember cos I was drunk. Let alone a man woman walking into the police station. I could not imagine the humiliation that came with my statement, having to go to the doctor who will open my legs again and examine my private parts. And the shame of relating the story over and over again, I could not bear. I was OK with it. I  was not going to say anything to anybody. This was going to be my incident. That I will slowly heal over, alone.

Not until month five, when I felt sick. I was vomiting, and when I went to the doctor I was told that I  am  pregnant. And  I was too late to abort. I have never wanted a child. I don’t have it in me to be a mom. I am a dad. That’s what I am. I don’t know how I will tell my partner that I am pregnant. I did not tell her that I was raped. I had to wish her away for the months that followed. My life did not include a child, I did not plan for. Me and my partner did not plan to have kids. How do I tell her. I hid the pregnancy by cooking up a story that I have been moved to Pretoria for the next four months. Until the baby was born……. I am ashamed that I got pregnant, and wish to have the child adopted.