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 café 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 7^th 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!     

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 dating—which he was supportive of—I 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 cried—because he had just made me cry—and 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 deserved—partly 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*

Aggressively Coming Out

As many of you know, I’m forcing myself to say “yes” to new experiences. About a month ago, I entered my name in a raffle for a “pampering experience.” I LOVE entering my name in raffles, even when I have no interest in the prize. Is that weird? Annnyway, guess who won the pampering experience? Bingo. It was yours truly.

When I got the call, I assumed I would be going to a spa to receive this “experience.” I accepted the offer before realizing that I was talking to a woman who sells beauty products, i.e. I would need to meet this stranger either at her house or mine. First of all, I had already said yes, so I couldn’t weasel my way out. Second, I was supposed to be saying yes to new things. I mean, I didn’t die on my trip to NYC to meet a stranger (see this post about my first potential murderer meet-up), so I scheduled an appointment to meet her at her house.

I went to her house last week. My pampering experience included a hand scrub/treatment, a charcoal mask, and a makeup demo. Side note: I didn’t realize makeup would be involved… I let her put it on me, but it was weird. I drove straight home after to wash it off.  

This lady was totally crazy and super fun. Picture a 50-year-old, quirky, excited, blonde, Stepford wife.    

We were having a blast chatting while she beautified me. She made a joke at her husband’s expense, then leaned in and was like, “Us girls can make fun of the men, right?” She made a few more “you know how men are” jokes. After about 30 minutes, I decided I was going to unleash the kraken… the GAY kraken!

I decided that the best way to do it would be to tell her about my girlfriend. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right—I don’t have a girlfriend. Details shmetails, whatever! I decided I would pretend the girl I’ve been seeing was my girlfriend. I knew she would be totally on board with the lie for the entertainment of the Stepford wife’s surprise.

We got to the makeup portion of the demo and I confessed that I didn’t wear makeup much. "Buuuuut," I said, “my GIRLfriend does.” BOOM! GAYBOMB! I waited for her jaw to hit the floor, but I got no such response. She replied, “Oh I get it, some of my girlfriends wear WAY more makeup than I do, too. Tehehe.” I thought to myself, “Oh honey, we are *not* talking about the same type of girlfriends.” Although, who’s to know what the Stepford wives do together in their spare time… wouldn’t I like to imagine… ehem, sorry, back to the story.

She didn’t get that I was gay, so I decided to come out even harder!

Somehow, we started talking about Sephora and she asked, “Have you ever been to Sephora?” I said, “Oh, my girlfriend LOVES Sephora.” Then she giggled and asked, “Does she make you go there?” I replied, “Oh, you know she drags me there!” Then I made a little annoyed face, as if to say, “The things you do for love, amiright?!” She laughed and said, “My friends make me go there sometimes, too!”

I was so confused. Did she finally know I was gay, or was she still thinking I was talking about a friend? Initially she responded with “girlfriends” (plural), but after the Sephora conversation, she started saying “girlfriend” (singular). I decided I’d better lay it on harder, just in case.

She started asking me about my job. I said, “Well, my girlfriend is a (fill in occupation), so she’s really the smart one.” Then I did a little smirky face. She acted all impressed and was like, “Wow, both of you are smarties!”

Still unclear. Then she asked if I wanted to review her makeup catalogue. I thanked her but made the joke that, “I’ll leave the makeup to my girlfriend. She would laugh at me if I came home with this foundation, because we both know I wouldn’t use it!” We both laughed, but I STILL couldn’t tell if she got it.

Then she gave me a flyer about the makeup and said, “I know you won’t wear this stuff, but if you want to give this to your friend, she might be interested! Plus, if she enters the raffle, you guys could win a trip for two!”

Me:

What the fuck does that mean? At first, she said “friend,” so I was like, “Nope, she didn’t get it.” But then she said, “You could win a trip for two,” which felt like it had a romantic implication, right? I left SO confused about whether or not she knew I was gay despite my aggressively coming out for 2 straight hours.

Ready for the best part? She asked me to coffee next week! She said it was fun talking and that she’s working to be a mentor in this beauty organization and needs to practice mentoring women as part of her training. She said we would get coffee and just chat more about her products so she could practice her spiel. She then grabbed the lip treatment that we had done and said, “And, as a freebie, I’ll bring some of the lip treatment you liked!” So, I’ll be getting coffee with my Stepford friend next week for two reasons: 1) I need that lip treatment to keep my lips healthy in order to live up to my chapstick femme title, and 2) I MUST continue my coming out shenanigans with her. Maybe I’ll show up in a pride shirt! You’re right, that’s way too subtle for her. I’ll wear this: