#life as a lesbian

[life-as-a-lesbian]

Alright, so now I knew I didn’t only like boys, but how did I figure out I didn’t like boys at all? There were a lot of signs for that too. I mean, I mentioned a lot of them in my last post (like getting physically sick when being intimate with my boyfriend), but even after I knew I liked girls I couldn’t quite accept I didn’t like boys. It’s still really hard for me to accept honestly, which I will talk about later.

To a lot of people, labels don’t matter. That is totally awesome. To me, labels mean a lot. When I first told my friends I was in love with K, along with “yeah we know, finally”, they asked “so, you’re bi then?”. And for some reason, I couldn’t tell them yes. I had been with boys in the past, I was actually pretty boy crazy all throughout high school, and now I liked a girl, so bi made sense, but it didn’t feel right.

I had a friend, whom I am no longer friends with, who insisted on calling me bi. I don’t remember why or how we got on the topic, but she literally told me I was bi. Very directly, without hesitation I said “no, I’m not. Don’t call me that”. She couldn’t wrap her head around that. I still thought boys were cute, I had dated boys before; I must be bi. But bi never felt right, neither did pan, and I refused to use a label I didn’t feel comfortable with. Using a label that didn’t fit me felt disrespectful to the people who do identify with it and to myself. For a while, I identified only as queer, and I do still feel comfortable using that label.

On one of K’s and I’s off periods, I downloaded all the typical dating apps. On each one, it asked the “who are you attracted to” question. At the time, I thought I was attracted to men, women, and non-binary folks. So, I set my preferences to everyone. I matched with a lot of people, talked with a few, and I met up with two. The first person I met up with is the one we’re going to talk about, we’ll call him S.

S was an old coworker of mine, we only worked like two shifts together, but he used to come into the store regularly, even after he quit. We never really talked, but I always thought he was cute and polite. Ironically, we matched. After a few days texting and a 4 hour phone call, we decided to meet up. The first date was awkward to say the least. We went to a park and sat on the bench for an hour or so, just talking. I was telling him about my grades, which, while above average, are not that impressive, except to him apparently they were impressive enough to lean in and kiss me pretty aggressively. When we separated, he told me “sorry, was that okay? It was just so hot hearing you talk about how smart you are, I couldn’t resist”. I did not tell him it wasn’t okay, so he kissed me more throughout the night. Each time, I couldn’t help but think about how much I did not want to be kissing him. I thought that maybe he was just a bad kisser though. I convinced myself I could make him better and that it would be fine. He was cute and totally into me, I could make it work.

If you haven’t ever seen the movie Two Night Stand; one, I totally recommend it, and two I am totally going to spoil it. Basically, a woman tries to have a one night stand with a man and it turns into a two night stand because of a giant blizzard. And the whole movie you’re thinking, “there’s no way this would ever happen in real life. There is a weather app on everyone’s phone, the news is playing in the background of places all the time, there would be a weather alert text”. To be fair, the movie took place in like 2013 when smart phones weren’t huge yet, but let me tell you that even in the modern age of IPhone 11’s, this is not as unlikely a scenario as one might think considering, you guessed it; it happened to me. Not quite like the movie, considering I was not trying to have a one night stand and the guy did not get the girl in the end, but weather did trap S and I in a very small apartment together on our second and last date.

For our official second date, we went out to a local arcade. We played games and he tried to make out with me in the Photo Booth. Then, we went back to my apartment. On the way back, it looked like it was going to rain and I had checked the weather that day so I knew that rain was in the forecast. I, however, did not know that it wasn’t just rain forecasted, it was a severe thunderstorm. We hung out in my room for a bit and then after another set of uncomfortable kisses, I asked him to go. I walked him to the door and when I opened it, it was pouring. It wasn’t just a heavy rainfall. It was raining so hard we couldn’t see the cars on the street from my balcony. He obviously didn’t want to try to drive home in the storm considering he didn’t live in town (fair enough), so he asked if he could stay. I didn’t want him to get in a wreck, so I told him he could. One huge problem though, I didn’t have anywhere for him to sleep… except… in bed… with me. My couches weren’t couches at all, one was a chair and one was a loveseat and he was pushing 6”; my roommates room was off limits. Looking back, I guess I could’ve made him sleep on the floor, but I didn’t. We slept in my bed together.

He was perfectly respectful. We didn’t have sex and he didn’t try, we just slept. And still, the next morning, I woke up feeling like I needed to rip my skin off. I barely spoke a word to him that morning and I never texted him again. The moment I got home from work, I took the hottest shower I have ever taken in my life and scrubbed my skin until it was blotchy red. I immediately bleached my sheets, my pillowcases, my blankets, and the clothes I slept in. I was nauseous the next two days. That’s when it clicked. H, if you can’t share a bed, PLATONICALLY, with a perfectly nice and handsome man is there any way you could share a bed romantically with one?

That’s when I changed the preferences on my dating apps to show me women only.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[catchymemes]

[whydooldpeopletalk]

Speaking as someone who's been outed many, many times, by both "allies" and homo/transphobes, some of yall are way too comfortable sharing other peoples' queer identities.

"But what if I'm trying to be funny?" Doesn't matter.

"But what if I'm an ally?" Doesn't matter

"But what if the person I'm talking to is an ally?" Doesn't matter.

"But what if I'm queer?" Doesn't matter

"But what if the person I'm talking to is queer?" Doesn't matter.

"But what if the person I'm talking about is a stranger?" Doesn't matter.

"But what if it's really obvious?" First of all, ew. Second of all, Doesn't matter.

"But what if they didn't come out to me, I just figured it out on my own?" Doesn't matter.

"But what if they're getting misgendered?" It's just as easy to say 'actually she's a girl' as it is to say 'actually she's transgender and uses she/her'. If that person is pretransition, it's also easy to just bite your tongue and not say anything.

Unless that person has explicitly given you permission to share that information, you DON'T. No matter how certain you are that everyone is accepting, no matter how noble your intentions, it's not your information to share. Getting clocked sucks, getting outed sucks, and they're both an invasion of privacy no matter who's doing it.

[lisamar1exo]

harlivy 🌱❤️

[snoopybutch]

There r some really handsome dykes out there in thee world. Thank god I am alive to see them

[life-as-a-lesbian]

I want to do a little Q&A before my next post! Do you have any questions for me? Suggestions for future posts? Tips for my readers?

[ileaveclawmarks]

Polyamorous Butch Lovers, Shelby Cohen (1986).

[genderkoolaid]

i feel like the crimew thing shows how much queer discourse dehumanizes people. crimew is an extremely cool & talented person who's like. literally embodying 'be gay do crime' in it's truest form, but the minute that people find out it is a bi lesbian, suddenly thats. all they can think of her as? like no consideration of how it Hacked The Fucking No Fly List, everyone can only focus on her lesbian identity crimes. because none of the people who do this shit can ever see "wrong" queer people as people. they treat identity discourse like it's the biggest issue in the world even to this absolutely absurd level. doesn't matter what they do for queer liberation doesn't matter if they are happy, if you Do Identity Wrong all you are in their eyes are a freak who's personally responsible for lesbophobia or transphobia or w/e. funny how that works

[moodymeangirl]

my uber driver today was a malawian milf who called me beautiful over and over in her soft low accent and the way i would die for that woman

[lav3nder-bees]

Nothing like doing your goth gfs makeup before getting your ass handed to you on the battle field

i.e I wanted to doodle something between finishing schoolwork and it kind of got away from me

[moved2fshfish]

we sure are cute for two ugly people!

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[sabertoothwalrus]

butches <3

[wis-art]

I was busy doing commissions and dealing with chronic pain, but it's still lesbian visibility week so i hope you all feel seen :)

Both characters are trans women (she/her)