I considered myself straight, until a guy lifted me like I was nothing

I’ve always identified as straight. All my life, my attractions and relationships were with women. But one single moment completely scrambled that.

It happened with a friend. He’s 6’2, a rugby player. Just a powerhouse of a guy. I’m 5’3 and athletic, so we’ve always had a joking dynamic about our size difference.

One night, he bet me he could lift me with one arm. I laughed it off, but he stepped forward, wrapped one arm around my waist, and hoisted me straight off the ground.

It was so instant and so effortless. My heart didn’t just race; it felt like it stopped. The strength it took to hold me there, pinned against his side, was amazing. I could feel every muscle in his arm and chest. He was smiling, completely at ease.

He set me down after a few seconds, and everyone laughed. But I knew, right in that moment, that something had changed for me. The raw, physical power he had over me wasn’t intimidating; it was exciting. It was the hottest thing I’d ever felt.

That was the first crack in the straight identity I’d held my whole life. It made me question everything, because how could I be 100% straight when the feeling of a man’s strength dominating me so completely was the thing that finally got me?