When I was a wee little girl I played with my Barbies and enjoyed wearing dresses. I threw a fit if my mother didn’t allow my favorite doll in a picture. I was a girl. I did the girlie things. Except playing house…I was never a fan of that one. I usually played the neighbor. Occasionally, I would step out of my “femininity” and play with building blocks, Legos was a favorite, race cars on the living room rug, or pretend to be comic book characters with my brothers and cousin. I was the bad-ass Rogue from X-men.
When I got older I began practicing the typical adolescent girl trials with make-up. Because we moved a lot I had different cliques and different ideas on how a girl should dress her face. When I lived in Spring Branch and going to Northbrook Jr. High I wore the brown lipstick and black lip liner. Uggh…those were the days. When I grew my boobs I unbuttoned my uniform shirts low enough to show some cleavage. When I went to Spring Forest Jr. I realized my clique was with the freaks…and I dabbled in the goth pale face, deathly black eyeliner and black lipstick. I eventually fell into a depression trying to be like other girls but knew I wasn’t completely like them.
I remember speaking with the counselor at school telling her “I don’t know what to talk about with these girls!” They talk about boys they like or soap operas or some lovey dovey chick flick and I’m not into all of that. And the counselor would tell me to watch what they watch…basically conform. That made things worse for me…I was trying, but it was easier being a loner than watching those dumb things they were.
I met my first girlfriend (who did not believe in monogamy) in the 8th grade. She was in the 7th. It was then I realized what I was. I didn’t feel weird anymore for being attracted to girls. I didn’t feel weird for being attracted to certain girls. She was a tomboi. My crush before her was a tomboi!
When she kissed me at the 8th grade dance nobody really questioned her about the kiss. She gave me a light peck on the lips and I grabbed her by the head for a REAL friggin’ kiss. We had been dancing the entire time. It was my own little world. I was comfortable around her. I loved her. Or I thought I loved her. I was only 13 what did I know of love and self-discovery all at the same time. She eventually broke my heart, but that’s another blog.
Everyone was either avoiding me, girls were covering their chest with their binders. Silly girls..did ya notice the type of girl I kissed…TOMBOI!! People threw things at me, stuffed hate notes in my locker, or asked really personal questions I was not prepared to answer. All I knew at the time was that I found a girl that liked me. I didn’t feel alone anymore. I finally had an answer as to who I was!! Or what I was! The only thing that made me awkward was wondering what the next step is in this “relationship.” SHE didn’t do relationships…but she had her heart broken before I came into her life. And thus the cycle continues.
Anyways. She hardly got any of the bullshit I was dealing with. I got the “you don’t look like a lez.” Bullshit at the age of 13?? I was wondering how the fuck did y’all know and I didn’t??
Once she left my life, heart and mind…I began to transform into the “typical” lesbian. I knew it wasn’t really ME. But I wanted so badly for others to KNOW I was a lesbian. Surfing the net at the time (when we had internet) and paying close. I didn’t LOOK like a “typical” lesbian! And like so many other butches..once ya chop off that hair the girls take a likin’ to ya. All of a sudden I had friends come out to me as bisexuals or bi-curious. I’ll never forget dancing at the club my brother and I used to frequent. And this really hot goth girl just came up to me and started grinding on my leg! All I could do was scream in my head “Oh my fucking GOD!” Then she just left and motioned for me to follow her to the bathroom. One part of me was still screaming “OMG!” The other was feeling icky…I know what that bathroom looks like. It was never clean!! So, no ladies I have never had sex in a public restroom.
But holy shit a girl came onto me, then. Girls were attracted to me, then. They smiled or winked or whatever to get MY attention and I loved it. That part anyway. I was STILL attracted to the tombois, butches…which fucked with their heads because at the time I was dressing that part. LOL! But, I was the one not really wanting relationships, then. The cycle of heartache.
I hadn’t slept with a guy, yet. I never had any intentions of sleeping with men. It never dawned on me that as a woman that was what I needed to do before realizing my OWN sexuality. But, I was a daddy’s girl and it were his words that remained stuck in my head. That and the taunting on a regular basis on my way home. When I would come home from school and tell my own mother these things, she didn’t provide much help. “get over it.” was the popular motto in our household. Which explains my famous defense mechanism to avoid certain conversations… I got over it. Kinda like this blog, right now. I got over these things and I am really craving a cigarette right now visiting these days. Nothing was DEALT with.
I’m not the proud and famous “gold-star” lesbian. I have been with men before. I was young and had a lot of issues going on that I did not know how to deal with at that time. I didn’t exactly have anyone to talk to or provide any sort of help about all that I was going through. Everyone leads a different life. Everyone!
So, here I sit today blogging about what I have experienced and trying to relate it to how badly it hurts me when other lesbians treat me like I am scum because I don’t follow the self-righteous lesbian dress code of honor! I have lived on both sides of the butch/femme spectrum and I will always have a soft spot for my butches. Ha ha literally! I know how y’all are almost used like pieces of meat by some women. I am NOT one of those women! I am a lesbian. I shouldn’t have to be held accountable for those straight girls causing you heartbreak. YOU probably thought you could flip the bitch and wound up getting burned yourself.I know, I have been there, too. It’s a long mind numbing fuck! NOT MY FAULT! And for that matter not really hers either…she was straight!
But I am straight looking…what the fuck is that? Is there some lesbian dress code manual I missed out on?? Even if there was one…ya really think I’d follow it? 😛
I LOVE BEING A WOMAN!! I love our clothes, make-up, high heels, accessories, hair styles, oh my list could go on. All for my own personal joys of womanhood! Some ignorant people believe that women dress a certain way to attract the attention of men. That’s not the case at all. Not for a FEMME LESBIAN! I dress this way for my own ego boost! I dress this way for if I should run into a butchie I can smile and she will have that boost letting her know that girlie girls do still love the butch! I dress this way for my own girlfriend. I love to watch her stare me up and down lost in my femininity! But, when we go to a bar we prefer a girl bar. We have made attempts to some straight bars with no comfort. I get the attention of men wanting to dance with me while my girlfriend is sitting next to me! Really, asshole? But when we hit the girl bars I am completely ignored or hated. A group of women could be standing around me laughing and ordering drinks and not one of them will excuse themselves for bumping me in the shoulder…accident, I’m sure. Whatever. I am the girl twiddling my thumbs once she’s reminded that she is a femme and everyday “typical” lesbians don’t like or trust you. But the moment I walk away some brod will joke with my BUTCH girlfriend! Shady bitches!
I’m not saying I want all the butches to flirt with me when my girlfriend leaves for the restroom. I’m only asking for a little recognition. Damn, I don’t know a smile or laugh when I make the comment about your loud ass Freudian slip. Don’t look me down like I just farted in front of your parents at a fancy dinner!!
What the fuck, Girls? You’re at a bar! You’re at the fucking girl bar! Gay/Lesbian bars were once a place where gays/lesbians could hang out without the fears and hatred from homophobes! Ya know, when butch and femmes dominated the lesbian scene and was our way of survival. But now we are so looked down upon. Y’all really need to brush up on your Saphic Herstory and get over your hatred or fear of labels!
Where’s a lesbo to go if she can’t even chill at her own neighborhood girl bar?