If finding the right man was a prerequisite of heterosexuality, we would soon be extinct. But things seem to have got out of control lately with mens' obsession with lezzerism. First the blog supposedly written by a lesbian from Damascus was found to have been written by a man living in Scotland , and then it turns out that Paula Brooks, the editor of the lesbian news website LezGetReal, is a retired Ohio military man and construction worker.
What is going on? Do we not have enough lesbian writers without having to make them up?
Do I need to churn out more diatribes? Being an out and proud lesbian with a public profile, I often get slated by men who take umbrage that I am not exactly their type for a sexual fantasy the male version is either a woman so butch she could kick-start her own vibrator, or a Katie Price-type with extra large boobs, three-foot-long tongue and additional fingers. One accused me on his blog of "lezzering on again" after hearing me on Radio 4.
I was surprised because the item he was referring to was about the cost of car insurance for women. Another Guardian writer, Cath Elliott , is often assumed to be a lesbian by men who take offence at her dislike of rapists and sex murderers. She once got so tired of comments posted on her blog asking her about her short hair and lack of makeup that she told them we both run a lesbian militia training school in the countryside for straight women. Men make bad lesbians, but with some effort they could be more convincing.
Who better to run a lesbian school than me? I have 34 years' experience and have never wavered or lost interest in the topic. Let's start with the basics: Argue in public but come home with drill bits and a self-assembly wardrobe.
This is an important lesbian signifier. I felt powerful turning down men when they hit on me.
I fantasized about sex with women as a pre-teen and crushed on my girl friends. In high school, I rented every single indie and foreign film from Blockbuster because many of them featured lesbian sex. But then I met this boy. Nothing about me has really changed. Most of my friends are queer, I still move in queer spaces and go to queer events.
But the main reasons I frequented queer spaces in the past were to cruise for dates or to feel safe showing affection for my partner. And yet I still catch myself nervously glancing around when he takes my hand, before I remember that we blend in as a straight-passing couple. I suddenly have straight-passing privilege; it feels foreign and uncomfortable.
I thought part of the beauty of queer relationships was that we could talk about everything. A few weeks into dating, I had an IUD inserted, which was one of the most painful experiences of my life. The six months I kept it in were a nightmare. My daily cramps were at times so bad I woke up crying. I had constant spotting, infections and anxiety.
I worried my guy would be grossed out or otherwise turned off by my blood, my pain — hell, my body. Much to my surprise, he listens, sympathizes and supports me. He continues to surprise and delight me, and it makes my mind swim with questions about men, about relationships, about queerness, about love. When we started dating, I was seeking a feelings-free fling.
After two breakups in a year, I decided to protect my heart and commit to being emotionally unavailable. Casually and unemotionally dating a dude seemed perfect: I could get laid without fear of catching that big, scary, incurable STI: Ah, the best laid plans of dykes and men.
Desire and love are not subject to popular vote, and as members of the queer community, we ought to know better than to inflict these kinds of pressures on one another. Last spring, I fell deeply, deliriously, overwhelmingly in love. Most of my friends are queer, I still move in queer spaces and go to queer events. As a result one rarely hears these concerns echoed in the gay male community; why would a gay man ever fear losing his bi male partner to a woman? Do not use for basting turkey. I was surprised because the item he was referring to was about the cost of car insurance for women. This is an important lesbian signifier.
I knew I was in trouble by the second date. It was new and kinda scary, and yet wonderful and so right. Sure, parents usually like me: But what if they Google me and watch my dirty stand-up jokes about being a lesbian? Queer womxn who are with men are able to bring something unique to that relationship. Because we must navigate the hetero world and queer spaces, we have a specific lens that we see the world with and have a particular way that we love.