Chapstick Chapstick

Saturday, April 21, 2018

Clitourists


I went on yet another first date last week. When I arrived she seemed really nervous. After chatting for a few minutes, she said, “I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know what I am. You said you’re a lesbian, but I’m not really sure that I am. Maybe I’m bisexual? I really don’t know. I feel obligated to tell you, because I don’t want to waste your time.”

First of all, kudos to this woman for being so honest and straightforward. I really appreciated her openness. I asked her if I was her first girl date and she responded, “Well, technically no, but my first girl date was only a few days ago, and this is my second.” We then commiserated about how stressful and confusing the figuring it out phase can be.

Generally, I don’t go on dates with women who are “figuring things out.” Since it took me so long to find the L word, I’d like to find a woman who is at a similar stage with her sexuality. On dating apps, I pretty much swipe left on all women who identify as bicurious, heteroflexible, unicorn-hunters, or indicate that they are “experimenting.” I want a relationship, and I don’t want to waste my time with a clitourist.

My general rule against experimenters is complicated by the fact that I like this woman. Buuuuut, what if I fall in love with her and she’s actually straight? What if we date then she breaks up with me for a man? Worst case scenario, I fall in love with her, we have sex, and this is her reaction:


I don’t want to ruin lesbian sex for a baby dyke. It’s too much pressure! Cashing in lesbian V cards seems like a job for a more seasoned lesbian than yours truly.

After a fun coffee date, we walked toward the exit of the cafe. The moment our feet hit the sidewalk, she practically ran away from me. She said bye while race walking toward her car. This brings me to my final concern; I want to be with someone who is ready to be with me. I want a girlfriend who wants to be with me and isn’t scared of wanting to be with me.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "This whole fucking blog is about your lesbian confusion. One year ago, you were basically this woman you're describing." Fair enough, wise reader. I was her one year ago (I ran away from a few of my first girl dates, too). Because I was her one year ago, I know how much turmoil and growth she has ahead of her. I'm ready for a serious relationship, and I only want to date women who are ready for the same. There's no way I was ready for a relationship when I was in her shoeshence my hesitation.

Since I like her, I’ve decided to schedule a second date, then take it one date at a time. If I continue liking her, I guess we’ll figure out the rest? It could be fun to introduce a baby queer to the joys of lesbianism. ;)





Thursday, March 29, 2018

Happy Lesbiversary!


Exactly one year ago today, I came out for the first time. It was the first time I used the word “queer” to describe myself. Well, technically, it sounded like this: “I think I’m queer. But, maybe I’m not. Well, I might be? I don’t know. How can I know anything for sure?” It was late afternoon in a cafĂ© with one of my lesbian gurus. She was super supportive and I left with an answer I already knew, but was terrified to acknowledge—I was *definitely* interested in women.

I left the coffee meeting with some clarity. I was 100% into women and my denial wasn’t going to change the reality. So, I decided to rip the Band-Aid off and tell my dad (he’s actually my ex-boyfriend’s dad, but I call him my dad—see weird relationship with ex-boyfriend post). I called him and told him I went to an LGBT-identified meeting. He responded, “Cool,” then started talking about something else.

Pissed beyond measure, I interrupted him and asked, “Did you hear what I said?! I went to an LGBT-IDENTIFIED meeting!” He just said, “Yeah. Right.” Then I said, “Because I’m LGBT-identified!” He responded, “Yeah, I know you aren’t straight.” He then went on to review the multiple times I told him about ogling over women. In retrospect, it seems bizarre that I thought he didn’t know. Anyway, I was relieved that he was supportive, but also annoyed that I didn’t get this reaction:


I spent the rest of my night crying in my bed alternating between feelings of intense dread and intense pride. I didn’t want to be gay (well, “bisexual”), but I was proud of myself for finally admitting to others that I wasn’t straight.

To celebrate my lesbiversary, I want to take a look at the highlights from my first year queer! Here's my queer year in a nutshell:

I had 9 first dates with women, 1 girlfriend, my first “real” girl kiss (that peck kiss in 7th grade only sort of counts, right?), and I lost my lesbian virginity. These were some big accomplishments, my friends. *pats myself on the back*

Other big events from my first year queer:

1) I cut off 1.5 feet of hair after I came out:


2) I went to my first pride:
(Fun fact: my first date with a woman was on this day!)


3) I bought my first tie:
I mean, I made it femme saucy, but it was still significant.


This year was both wildly fun and tremendously difficult. I’m proud of myself for my growth and my decision to be a more authentic version of myself. I’m still a confused mess, and I’m still unsure about who I am, but I took some huge steps toward the person I’m supposed to be this year.

*raises beer* Cheers to a year of lezcapades. May many more follow!     

Sunday, March 25, 2018

Cheers to My Ex-Boyfriend


My ex-boyfriend is a gem. Not only does he continue to share his family with me (when I go “home,” I go to his house… like, I spend ALL holidays at his house), but also, he was one of my most supportive friends while I was coming out.

About this time last year, I came out to him on the phone. I told him I went to an LGBT-identified meeting. I confessed, “I’m bisexual.” (Forthcoming: A post about my bisexual detour). His response was, “I know, ratty.” (Also, we call each other ratty… It started as a pet name, but we still use it. I’m making it sound weird, but trust me, it’s not). Since we had discussed the possibility of me sleeping with women WHILE we were datingwhich he was supportive ofI figured he wouldn’t be totally shocked. Even though I knew he would be supportive, I was really scared to tell him.

I feared my coming out would invalidate the relationship we once had or the love we still had for one another. I knew it didn’t, but I worried he might think it did. I was totally wrong. He was just happy for me. He was happy for me because he loves me and wants me to be happy. What a fucking sweetie, right?

Don’t get me wrong, we had some hiccups after I came out. We had misunderstandings, uncomfortable questions, and shared tears in public spaces (because big fights always happen in public, fyi). Despite the hiccups, at the end of the day, I knew he would always love and support me. In fact, in one of our misunderstandings at a local diner, he criedbecause he had just made me cryand said, “I just want to support you and I’m sorry that I don’t always know how to do that.”

As an apology, we went to Wendy’s for a round of frosties, which we ate while sitting on the hood of my Forester. As we slurped up our frosties, he said, “We’ll figure it out, ratty. Don’t worry. I’ll always be here for you.” While I always knew that, I needed to hear it.  

Admittedly, I wasn’t a very good girlfriend to my ex-boyfriend. I wasn’t in a good place in my life, and I couldn’t be the partner he deservedpartly because of the gay thing, but also, partly because I was a general mess. Though I couldn’t be a good girlfriend to him, I’m grateful I have the privilege to be his best friend. And let me tell you, we are really good best friends.  

Find yourself a ratty and hang onto them.  

Love you, ratty. <3

*Me and ratty in our youth*