I mentioned the fact that I’ve been seeing a girl in my last blog post, which according to my ratings, no one actually read (thanks, dickheads). But by dropping in that one-liner and unleashing it into the world, I cultivated some confidence in writing this entire post about it. Woo.
Here’s to heaps of clicks on my post about chicks with chicks.
I met Rach* at a lesbian bar during London Pride a few weeks ago. I was left to my own devices after my friend Clare decided she wasn’t enjoying the sweaty femme pit and went home. I bopped around like a nigel-no-friends for about an hour before Rach approached me checking to see if I was straight (“enquiring for a male friend”, apparently). All the other girls in the bar had already checked my sexuality status and that’s actually why I was standing alone at that point. Every time I’d find some people to dance with they’d find out about my questionable curiosity and ditch me. Whoever the mother hen was that asked the questions would gather her girls and scurry them away like I was some sort of heterosexual predator.
I didn’t really care because don’t be a bitch and I’d actually heard that lesbians can get quite offended when a straight girl “pretends” to be a lesbian. Though I wasn’t pretending anything, I was being honest. Sheesh. You’d think in 2017 when the lines of sexuality and gender are blurring, some girls might appreciate a bit of straighty-one-eighty frankness. Heck, I have one lesbian mate who doesn’t even go for girls who aren’t straight.
(By the way, hardly surprising that it’s been made into such a touchy issue in a culture exclusively RUN BY WOMEN. Am I right.)
I can’t remember the exact exchange of words I had with Rach but I alluded to the fact that I had an insatiable curiosity in lesbianism. And guess what, she was a bitch too. And by the time she finished being all mean to me, she had lost the male friend she was winging for anyway.
Rach and I ended up hanging out all night having weird little conversations where she would tell me she’d ditch me if an “actual lesbian” came along, and I told her that she’s not being very nice to me but that’s okay.
The club closed at some ridiculous hour and next thing I know we’re out on the street with her still being kind of unfriendly but also inviting me to stay at her place (say whaaat). It all seemed very odd. Things seemed to be moving so fast but all full of reluctancy.
I was a definite ‘no’ on the going home with her because I don’t go home with men late at night (of which sexual relations I am familiar with), let alone a tiny and ferocious kiwi girl in war paint (it was London pride, she was dressed up). But as it just so turned out, we lived in the same area. So we shared a cab.
(Like the actual same neighbourhood, which is really flipping weird in a city with 20 million people and a massive mile radius of potential places to dwell.)
I’m not going to go into the fledged details of what happened next because HI MUM, DAD, GRANDAD. But basically it didn’t seem like such a bad idea to go have a sleepover with a pretty girl (next door) in glittery camo (I think it was a military theme?)
I’ve told most of my friends what I’ve been doing with my spare time. It basically involves a weekly ritual of Game of Thrones and wine with my new friend. Hardly anyone is surprised anyway, because since I moved to East London I’ve also started riding a bike, turned vegetarian and replaced deodorant with natural products.
This was a pretty difficult thing to find the courage to write about but I did it because it’s all part of my mission to share experiences that inspire other people to do the same. Sexuality is a massively awkward thing to discuss one-on-one in a private room let alone blast it all over the internet. I can only imagine how difficult it is for people in some societies, communities and families to discuss homosexuality. BUT IT SHOULDN’T BE. Love is love. Sex is sex. Who cares? We’re just a bunch of living organisms overpopulating a planet anyway. Just enjoy life. Eat good food. Stay active. And hang out with whoever you want on whatever terms. Just don’t hurt anyone’s feelings.
*identity protected so you nosy types don’t Facebook search her in my friends