Taking Chances

I’ve told myself to take more chances this year. Say “yes” to new experiences. Or, as one of my bffs constantly preaches, “Live your BEST life.” I was talking to this woman online for about a month when she asked to fly me to her city. That seemed sort of crazy, so we tabled the idea and kept talking. Eventually, she suggested meeting in New York City (in between us). I thought, “Why the hell not?” I mean, what was the worst that could happen?

Okay, I guess the worst case scenario was pretty dark… but, I decided to take a chance, despite the looming risk of murder.

A few relevant pieces of information about me: 1) I’m generally afraid of cities. Like all cities. The tall buildings are intimidating, navigating is impossible, and city people generally don’t like my kind—rural and confused. 2) I’m scared of meeting people in person for the first time. Going on first dates makes me feel like throwing up. 3) I’m REALLY scared of traveling alone. I had never traveled to a city by myself. When I have visited cities, I went with friends who could navigate and talk me down when I got anxious from the overstimulation.

Needless to say, going to meet a stranger in New York City was TERRIFYING. Since it terrified me, I decided I’d better do it.

Before going, I had extensive FaceTime conversations with this woman about my ground rules, my anxieties about all of the above, and back-up plans in case I chickened out. She was super supportive. She respected my no physical intimacy policy. Like no sex, no kissing, no hand holding, no direct eye contact… okay, I’m exaggerating, but only slightly.

We saw a show on Broadway, got wings and beer, then cuddled and watched a movie before bed. I know, I know, I broke the no touching policy, but it was ONLY cuddles. *pinky promise*

She’s smart, funny, cute, considerate, compassionate, and super into me. But, something was off. Do we not have a spark? Maybe I’m not ready to have a serious relationship so soon after my breakup? I’m scared of getting hurt? Or is it that she just isn’t my ex? I don’t know.

I called things off today. She wanted me to be her girlfriend, but I couldn’t get on board. Despite the ending, I’m really glad I went to the city to meet her. She was pretty cool, and we had a great time. Most importantly, I’m hella proud of myself for taking a chance. *self-five*

Happy Galentine's Day!

Every day is Galentine’s Day when you’re a lezzie, right? ;)

What’s Galentine’s day, you ask? It’s an alternative Valentine’s Day where women celebrate the women in their lives. As Leslie Knope explains, “Ladies celebrating ladies. It’s like Lilith Fair, minus the angst.”

To celebrate the fantastic women in my life this year, I want to share a few beautiful stories that show how loving and supportive my favorite women are.

1). Last weekend, I spent the night at one of my lesbian guru’s apartments. First of all, it was the gayest sleepover imaginable. We watched two lesbian movies, But I’m a Cheerleader and D.E.B.S. We made omelets in the morning while listening to k.d. lang and Melissa Etheridge. It was fantastically queer.

Annnyway, I slept on her pull-out couch and when I woke up in the morning I was wrapped in a blanket that I didn’t have on when I fell asleep. I asked her about the blanket over breakfast, and she said that she came in to check on me in the morning and had determined that I looked cold, since I was curled up in a little ball (little did she know, I just naturally sleep in a little ball sometimes…). She went back to her room and took a blanket off her bed, then wrapped me in it. I know, adorable, right? If that isn’t the strongest friendship love you’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is.

2). A few weeks ago, I had some friends over and I was complaining to them about not having a girlfriend. One of my friends lectured me on how amazing I am, how much she loves me, and how she knows I will find someone worthy of my love. After her kind words, she took the dry erase marker from my refrigerator white board and drew this little picture for me. She said, “You’ll find a wife and the two of you will be SO happy together. Just be patient, babygirl.”

Note: I love how my friend drew me super butch in this little robot couple. Probably because of my butch charm. *smirks* Also, the little bag on my hip is my leather shoulder bag, which she playfully calls my “lesbian bag.” Needless to say, this image is now a permanent fixture on my refrigerator.

3). I had a *little* too much to drink at a party about a month ago. Usually, I’m a very happy-dancey drunk, but I had received a few hard text messages that day, so I got emotional.

Weird, I didn’t realize someone caught this footage of me in the bathroom at the party:

My amazing friend caught one glimpse of me in this state, grabbed my arm and said, “Nope. We’re going home.” She took me to her apartment, sat me on the toilet, washed the makeup from my face, put me in some jammies, then big spooned me until I fell asleep. During this whole process, she lectured me about how I needed to surround myself only with people who love me, and she continuously reminded me that she was one of those people.

How did I get such amazing women in my life? I’m super fucking lucky, that’s how. So, to all my gals out there on Galentine’s Day, I love you from the bottom of my heart. You are brave, loving, smart, funny, fierce, strong, and beautiful. Each of you inspires me to be a better person. Saying “I love you” feels like an understatement. Happy Galentine’s Day.

#NotAllWomen

When I tell women “I’m a lesbian,” sometimes it feels like they hear: “I’m sexually attracted to EVERY woman on this planet! That includes YOU!” When I came out to my female friends, some of them thought I MUST be into them now or at least was when we were younger.

I still get scared coming out to female friends because of the revisionist shit-storm that happens when I tell them. It goes something like this:

Chapstick Femme (CF): Rachel, I’m a lesbian.

Rachel: Omg really? Cool, cool. I’m down with the gays, so you’re all good… Wait, so did you ever have a crush on me?

CF: Hard no. Don’t worry.

Rachel: Oh, okay cool. Waaaaait, remember that time when [fill in super specific incident when I was young that Rachel has now decided was a “lesbian thing”]?

CF: Umm, no, I think I was just eating a tuna melt because I like tuna melts…

Rachel: Oh, okay. So, were you into [insert the name of a mutual female friend]?

CF: I wasn’t into any of our friends. Trust me, I don’t like ANY of you like that.

These situations happen because these women think that when you say, “I like having sex with women,” that you’re actually saying, “I want to have sex with any and all women.” In reality, I’m not even attracted to most women. I’m attracted to about 10% of women, and that’s on a good day.

When I was straight, people didn’t assume I was checking out every man that walked by. Now that I’m openly gay, my female friends think this is how I react to EVERY woman who strolls my way:

Okay, after reading the gym post, you probably think this is how I walk down the street, but I promise I don’t. (Confession: this does happen when a butch or athletic femme woman walks by, but it’s a rare occurrence.)

The weirdest part of these conversations is that these women are always sort of bummed that I’m not sexually attracted to them. I had one friend get upset when I told her she wasn’t my type. She may have even been offended? She was like, “Oh, I’m not your type? Well, who IS your type then?” As if to say, “How dare you not have a crush on me!”

Dear straight women, lesbians aren’t automatically into you because you’re women. That’s not how lesbianism works. If you’re a woman AND you’re wearing a vest, then yes, I’m automatically into you, because that is how lesbianism works.