Disclaimer: don't own

A/N: so I was watching some earlier seasons and noticed that George wears a wedding ring during his first appearances, but he doesn't wear it anymore. On his twitter, BD Wong said he just wore his own wedding ring, but never took it off. But that isn't any fun for his character! So this is my explanation for the ring. It's from George's POV, obviously.

I'm an expert in the human mind. I've spent years studying behaviors and the reason for them. I'm especially knowledgeable with sexual behaviors. I can identify a million reasons for someone having a sexual dysfunction, and the implications of that dysfunction. I know all about the human mind.

So why can't I understand my own mind?

I give off a deceptive appearance of self-confidence. Everyone I work with thinks I'm supremely confident, arrogant even. But... I'm not. Not even close. I know I have skills to analyze others. But that's it.

Years ago, that wasn't the case. I thought I was average. Well, not entirely; an FBI profiler isn't exactly normal. But, I thought I was close enough.

I was in love with a woman I met in medical school, I was sure of it. Sara and I shared a lot of interests and beliefs. And I did think she was pretty. I ignored my feelings when I found myself more attracted to men walking by us than her. It's odd, really; I'm a psychiatrist, but I tried to change my own sexual orientation.

Eventually, we got married. It never occurred to me that I might be repressing myself, subconsciously or otherwise.

We hadn't had sex yet, and on our first night together after being married, she wanted to. I agreed and we started kissing and undressing. We laid down on the bed... and that's when it hit me.

I didn't find her sexually attractive, or any women at all for that matter. Even if I did, my body certainly didn't.

How could I have failed to notice? I hadn't bothered to think about anything but being straight, even though they encouraged self-exploration in my psychology classes.

I managed to pretend, though, but it only made it worse for me. Because the only way I was able to get hard... was by thinking about a man. Jake. We'd met in medical school, too, and he had even asked me out once. I'd vehemently denied being attracted to men, and I told him no... but he was attractive. I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Feeling more conflicted than I had in my life, I had sex with Sara... pretending that it was Jake's. Jake's tongue dancing with mine, Jake's voice moaning and pleading and shouting, Jake's body tensing and shuddering beneath mine.

I could have stopped pretending there. I should have stopped there. But I didn't. I pretended to spoon up with Jake and pictured what it would be like to hug a masculine body instead of a feminine one.

The former was a much more appealing option.

I swallowed nervously as the thought occurred to me. I'd just gotten married! How could I just be finding out I was gay now? I thought briefly that maybe I was bisexual, but I knew... I wasn't attracted to women. I'd only been pretending.

I was soon called to the Special Victims Unit. Fortunately, none of the people I worked with cared about my personal life.

Years passed. I tried, against all the knowledge I'd gained while getting my degree, to make myself attracted to her. I knew I liked her personality, but I just never got aroused by her.

I almost breathed a sigh of relief when she filed for divorce first. We cited irreconcilable differences; our hours prevented us from having much time together, and we loved our work too much to change it. We're still on good terms, though I still haven't told her about what I realized.

The night our divorce was finalized, I went to Jake and talked to him. I told him everything. He listened patiently and informed me that it had been a lot like that for him, though without having actually gotten married first. But we both knew that it happens like that for a lot of people. I still was upset, though. I thanked him and left.

We started getting closer during the weeks after that, talking over dinner as I gradually began to accept my orientation.

And then, one night after dinner, he leaned forward and ever-so-gently kissed me. My breath hitched in my throat. I wanted the kiss so badly, but doing this would make it so.. final.

He waited. And waited. He started to pull away, and then I made up my mind and pulled him in, deepening the kiss.

Jake and I have been together for several years now. I feel comfortable with him and the relationship, which is a definite relief. Still, I'm baffled that I've spent my whole life getting inside people's heads, but I missed something so important about myself.

Jake always points out that doctors are notoriously bad at analyzing themselves, and that extends to the mind. I suppose he's right.

I'm upset that it took me so long to figure out that I'm gay. Jake is worth it, and I know that I love him and he's my match... but I can't help but wish that I knew as much about myself as I did about others, that I was as confident as others thought I was.

Still, I'm only human, I guess.