New lenses

"Actually, the cheerleading sequences are one of the few things I don’t like about the film, since lesbians are far more likely to fall in love with a girl’s stray curl or delicate cheekbones than FULL-ON TITS."

This was a in a review for an old, very camp but by all accounts amusing, iconic lesbian film. This statement was affirmed in the comments section of the review,  and it was somewhat of an epiphany for me.

In figuring out if I was attracted to women, I was asking from the point of view of attractiveness as it is presented to us for MALE consumption.

I struggled with understanding the concept of sexual attraction. 

We receive lots of messages that a sexy woman equals instant arousal in a man. This is a sexist idea, really, suggesting that men are at the mercy of their erections. This moves from being unfair to being downright dangerous in the context of rape culture... that women need to guard their behaviour and and appearance because of the lack of self control of men. But I digress.

I didn't feel any kind of rumbling in my nethers for either gender, so I was confused. But when I think about all sorts of scenarios from my past, and tie it to the concept in the above quote? Then maybe I've been in love dozens of times. And that might be with an aspect of a woman's appearance, or might be her sense of humour, it might be her intelligence. It doesn't mean I instantly feel aroused and want to jump into bed with them.

And that was certainly the case with Nyah. When I reflect on the last few years, I have always been interested in her. Memories of our brief exchanges at our workplace have stuck with me in remarkable detail. And what drew us together originally was good old fashioned chemistry along with the enjoyment of intelligent conversation,  shared values and mutual understanding of some our life experiences. I didn't look at her boobs and go "Whoar!"

That said, I experience physical desire for her that I do not remember experiencing since I was a teenager. And that wasn't and isn't about arousal. It is about a desire for physical closeness and intimacy.

And that, I suppose, is the key.

Boobs are awesome, but the heart, soul and mind are where beauty resides and true love blossoms. 

For me, to look for that in a man seems foreign.

The heart, soul, mind...and body...of a woman is where I feel at home.

Assumptions

When I first started wondering if I was a lesbian, I grappled with issues around presentation. I had read books about lesbian history, and all about the coded dressing that went on when lesbians couldn’t be out and proud… labrys earrings and pinky rings with a wink and a nudge. Stereotypes lived on with the idea in my head that most lesbians dressed like male truck drivers in steel capped boots and flannel shirts. The books I had read about middle aged women discovering their attraction to women advised that they go and mix and mingle with the ‘lesbian community.’ But…. how do you do that? For a start, I didn’t know where I’d look. And if lesbians dress like men, then how on earth would I fit in?

I read Lisa Diamond’s book about sexual fluidity, and got quite stroppy about labelling. Why have a label? I don’t need one. Plenty are doing without. I continue to be confused by all the issues around labelling and presentation, and even queer media seems to have different views.

Even in the last week, I read an article about femme invisibility being a ‘dirty secret’ of the queer community. That is, the lesbian community largely presenting as butch, and excluding and erasing women who identified as lesbian, but presented in a feminine way. You know - ‘You’re too pretty to be a lesbian.”

Then on the other hand, this piece was posted by an online magazine called ‘PRIDE’ which claims to be be a platform for queer millenials. Queer millenials seem to be throwing off labels, which then seems contrary to this piece which reinforces stereotypes about lesbians wearing boots and flannel shirts.

This is so incredibly problematic, as it is not only a community being non-inclusive, but doing so to the point of reinforcing stereotypes.

But this still happens, and I am utterly puzzled as to why. I tried joining a few lesbian Facebook groups, and the ‘exclusivity’ was annoying. I heard about a local lesbian event, and asked the administrator of one of the groups if she’d post it for member. “Oh, I’ll see what the organiser says. But its probably not necessary - its a well known event in the community.”

I see.

What if I don’t belong to ‘the community’ yet? How will I find out? Remember back at Stage One, where the books said ‘find the lesbian community?’ Well, how is that going to happen when the ‘community’ cloaks itself in some kind of exclusiveness?

I can understand discretion if you are doing something that is generally not approved of in society, but has ‘the community’ not realised that we have equality on pretty much all fronts? Any discrimination that lesbians face won’t be because they're gay - it will be because they’re women.

Other online magazines have been exploring the idea of doing away with labels, and celebrities like Miley Cyrus talk about ‘fluidity’ rather than taking on sexual identities related to attraction to any particular gender.

While I have been pondering what label to wear, I have enthusiastically posted articles about not labelling.

Then a lesbian friend said “But I don’t want people assuming I’m straight.”

She raised an excellent point, but I have explored that a bit further in my own personal context. I still don’t have a set identity. Other people label me as a lesbian, and that’s fine. I suppose I resist labelling because I think that there are more important defining things about me as a person than the gender of the person I’m in a romantic relationship with. In any case, labelling sexual identities is a relatively new phenomenon. We can thank the Victorians and their urge to catalogue and classify everything for that. 

And then I hit on it.

I don’t want people assuming I’m with a man.

I don’t want people assuming I’m married.

I don’t want people assuming I’m coupled at all.

I don’t want those things for anyone, actually.

Perhaps it was not so much that I don't want assumptions made about who I'm attracted to or romantically involved with or deeply in love with or having sex with. Because that's kind of personal, right? But more that I don't want about assumptions made about which societal box I fit into. As the writer of the article in DIVA said, In fact, by self-labelling as gay, my real intended meaning is that I don't fit the heteronormative category.

I remember when I was a newlywed nineteen year old I took a bit of pleasure in subverting people’s ideas about what I should be. So I suppose that’s an example in and of itself. 

Don’t assume that a nineteen year old isn't married, and don’t assume a nearly forty year old is.

And don’t assume all lesbians wear flannel.