Welcome to this Wednesday, May 28. How are you?
I’m a little emotional today - not in a bad way, but I am certainly listening to myself amidst many moving pieces. Have been watching this show, The Sex Lives of College Girls. It’s great. It’s television, so I know it’s crafted, but I’m doing the unhealthy thing of pondering back on my own time in college: I was closeted, career-lost, focused on baseline success and achievement regardless of this, and (unknowingly) relatively money-poor. While in therapy during college, I did uncover and own that I wanted to be a comedy writer, then a series of cool opportunities blossomed, but I felt called back to this hidden identity of being gay, and how do you balance two realities? Both real, but one secret. In college, I was on a few dating apps as a queer woman, but never met up with anyone in person. My first kiss was with a girl, during my first year of college, during a game. No romance. Any steamy hot make-out sessions occurred drunken on the dance floor with blurred and forgotten men who did the approaching.
When I moved to NYC, I was out as a gay woman. I had one meet-up from an app, that did not include nakedness, and had one older woman profess her admiration for me after a few nights of digital chatting. Had a crush on a woman I worked with, but was generally too intimidated to speak to her - I liked that she was bold, and out.
When I moved to ATL, after my NYC excursion, I had sex — gay sex (sorry,) with other women. I was, what, 24 years old? “Popped my cherry” at the ripe old age of 24, maybe 25. If you are wondering, you are correct: I am a gold-star lesbian. I think the aforementioned show on HBOMax alludes to this being more of a situation of luck - I don’t disagree.
So I start having some sex. It’s a fun activity, and it’s nice to explore with other women in safe spaces. I did also cry after a few escapades because they didn’t feel right. So, that is helpful information too. BUT THEN, you have to rinse out all of the trauma co-created in shame from your upbringing, that meant no harm, but was very specifically harmful. Is it okay for me to enjoy this? Is it okay for me to align with my truth? History has shown that this can be dangerous, and I want to be respectful to those who haven’t had the capacity to consider such lifestyles. Then, COVID - I got a nice, clean break from all things sex for a few years - scrubbed clean!
The thing I’m impressed with from this show is the amount of non-shaming that goes on, not only concerning sex, but just in being human and having feelings. People communicate with one another - they share and listen with the intent of finding common ground. Again, just a show, but inspiring.
ALSO, serious question: how does a gay woman exist without encroaching towards predatory vibes? So much of my work has been to maintain sexual distance and respect as to not stir feelings of discomfort that I got, even as a kid, from unwanted attenders. I don’t know how to gay! In my older years, I lean demisexual, asexual, graysexual… folks of any specific gender don’t stir the sacral, we’ll say. It tends to come from a deeper, more meaningful place - that takes time. Sex, consequentially, becomes unimportant. Connection is different.
I know it’s sort of an odd thing to air one’s personal life in this way - I keep it vague for a reason, but who is talking about those of us who fall within a certain category but went about it all differently? Also I don’t come from money, so I’m figuring this out mostly from the ground up.
I am lucky to be amongst some blossoming efforts right now. It humbles me. It slows me down. It makes me want to cry from gratitude. It also makes me want to exercise and keep going. Proud of this work.
Advice for fellow gay women: Don’t let the “straight,” married, closeted, or cowardly women play with your head or heart too much. You deserve better. Try to extend grace and set clear boundaries upfront - you know shit can be hard, but save yourself. And find/trust your straight allies - many exist. Discernment is crucial.
I love you.