In the past, I have talked about how I consider myself to be a feminine, delicate flower. I always like to make sure that I look like a lady, and even go to serious extremes to put pink in my attire, just in case there is any confusion. I never want anyone to look at me and say…..”Is that a man”?, or be able to peg me as anything other than lipstick/high heel wearing lesbian…..even on my worst days.
The truth is, I often find many of the things that “gay'” people do ridiculous. For instance, I would never feel it would be necessary for me to showcase my sexuality in the form of a sticker on the windshield of my car…..Unless I wanted people to stare at me and/or wanted to watch them slowly roll down their windows, while slowly pushing the pistol they are holding out, and in my direction. Also, I would never line up in the gay pride parade wearing nothing but a skimpy outfit, and a rainbow flag around my neck for a cape, while riding around on roller skates, and walking my poodle. I just dont think its necessary.
Don't get me wrong, if someone feels it IS necessary, to get their point across….Great! I say to each their own, but it isn't my forte. I dont want to be noticed merely because of my sexuality. I have more than that to offer. The point is, I often times do not side with my same sex admiring peers. I don't often get offended by people's views or comments, and on most days I may even laugh along with the judgements that people place on this group of people. However, every once in awhile, I hear a view point or perspective that amuses me in a different way. It may not even be the comment itself, but I find it comical when someone is so willing to make a statement as such, when I am standing in earshot, and they are completely aware of my debilitating, cursed disease of the lesbian.
I was hearing a story recently about a homosexual and heterosexual having to share a room together overnight. Though they were friends/acquaintances, when the heterosexual took a shower, the door was locked tightly, to prevent anything “BAD” from happening.?! Sleep was then disturbed, due to worry that something “funny” may come about, when the lights were turned down.
First of all, I doubt there was as much fear in that room than was described to others. Rather than being judged and laughed at by others, that person felt more comfortable making fun of their friend, feigning fear. After I listened to this ridiculous story, I asked if that is what people think of, when they have to stay alone with me. Do they fear that when the lights are off, I may reach over and caress their thigh? Do they think that as soon as they get in the shower, that I will take my first opportunity to look through the key hole of the bathroom door? That this is the opportunity I have been waiting for, for the entire duration of our friendship? I started to wonder if all my attempts at refreshing my lipstick, wearing dangly earrings, and squeezing into flattering, form fitting skinny jeans were only for my own benefit. Maybe my lifestyle has me stamped with with a plague that I can never rid of??
That same night, I met my good friend out for her birthday. Not being completely defeated by my previous thought process, I dolled myself up again. Lipstick, lacey tank, lacy sweater, tall boots, skinny jeans, and earrings. I looked exactly what I thought a girl hanging out with her friend would look like. We had a fabulous time nibbling on beet salads and baked octopus, while sipping on some fancy cocktails. We laughed with the local hippies, borrowed eyeglasses from the blind hip and cool retro wearing gentlemen, and I even got an autograph from a random man next to me, who said he was in a cool band! With all the fun we were having, mixed with the foul gas and/or full bowel movement that was expelled from the eccentric man next to us, I was beginning to forget about my earlier stressors all together.
It was nice to talk with the locals. I could throw my head back and giggle, flutter my eyelashes, take sips of my drink with my little pinky out, and just feel like a woman. No one could tell my sexuality….could they? Afterall, the gassy, halitosissy man, wearing a sweatshirt with an animated mouse on the front had just made fun of my lacy sweater, and lack of cleavage…..basically saying I was a prude. Lesbians aren't prudes are they? I felt confident that I was fitting in….No one was in fear of me putting the moves on them, if we happened to be in the bathroom at the same time! I felt confident again.
THEN it happened…
A new man walked in, chit chatting about his kids and asking random questions to bystanders. He then looked at my friend and I and asked….”Where did you two meet….Search”?
Was he suggesting that I looked up my friend on the computer? Or worse…Did he think we were on a date, and that we found each other on line? Who asks that question? Earlier thoughts came flooding into my mind! I hadnt been out in awhile, but surely this isnt a common question asked! That could only mean one thing….There is No amount of makeup or earrings that will cover up that gay stamp! I am branded!
What Ive come to realize in this whole dilemma is…Im gay. While I guess Ive known this for some time, I havent embraced the title. The sooner I start putting the moves on my friends in hotel rooms, and the sooner I get the stickers on my car, the sooner I think I will accept it. Wish me luck….!