There is this little man that lives a few houses down from me. I’ve seen him a few times standing outside his house. He always makes an effort to flirt and I always politely decline without really explaining to him that I’ve got a girlfriend.
Last night, we got off the bus together. I hadn’t seen him even on the bus, but as soon as we stepped off, I cursed this coincidence. I slowed down in hopes that he would continue on his way, but it seemed as though he was slowing down too. He’s the kind of guy that wants to have a conversation every time he sees me and I had long since come to the conclusion that we didn’t have anything to talk about.
He introduces himself again for at least the third time. I still don’t know his name. Then he tells me that I don’t seem social. I confirm that I am extremely anti-social. He agrees but continues to chat me up.
So what was your childhood like? I’m taking psychology and I see something in you. Were you traumatized? How do you feel about men?
Yes. He went there.
Why must I have been neglected/abused/traumatized/hurt by a man in order to be gay? Y’all are cool, but penis is ugly and balls stink.
Seriously…
I told him he was wrong about his diagnosis of me and he still asked for my number so we could discuss this further…
They just don’t get it…
If I said I loved every girl I’d ever had sex with, I’d be struck by lightning. If I said I liked every girl I shared a bed with, I’d get struck a second time.
I can admit it, I had some whorish tendencies. Shrug. It was what it was. I never lied to them or to myself about what we were doing.
The problem with a lot of lesbian relationships is that…well…They are Defined as relationships. We confuse lust with love.
Now in all of my wisdom, I can say that you shouldn’t lay down with a woman you don’t have strong feelings for. That may not be helpful advice because lust is pretty darn powerful.
You have to be real with yourself though. Think about what you’re willing to do for this chick. I know I’m in love with a woman when I allow her to put her feet on me when we cuddle. I hate feet. We’re married after I let you do that. Shudders…
When you are willing to allow the unthinkable, that’s when there is something more there. Now once again, let me be more clear because I know you can do some freaky-never-thought-about-shit when you’re in lust… But will you let them spend the night, smell your morning-I’ve-been-eating-coochie-all-night breath and then let her tongue you down? Now that’s love.
My point is that you can tell how you feel about someone based on what concessions you’re willing to make for them, your willingness to compromise, and your desire to be open. If none of that exists, but you still have a longing, that’s lust.
Don’t wife her. Let it be what it is and act accordingly.
I remember hearing a tale from a “boi” about how a certain female repeatedly did things that had always previously been her role. A simple example was opening doors…
If there had been any type of sexual attention there, it would have fizzled at the so called acts of emasculation the girl continued to execute.
Emasculation:
1. to castrate.
2. to deprive of strength or vigor; weaken.
3. deprived of or lacking strength or vigor; effeminate.
So we’ll ignore the first definition, but the other two… It’s possible, right?
I remember very early on in my dealings with my first, she asked me to do something simple in front of a bunch of other bois… By simple I mean, like to bring her something to drink or go inside and wait for her. Simple, but chauvinistic. I complied with a smile. Later, she asked me why I had so easily agreed because normally I would have given her hell… I shrugged and said I was trying to make her look good.
In my days of dating men, I don’t remember ever giving a damn about their so called “fragile” egos. I never dumbed myself down or swallowed my gut reaction to make them feel good. It was never a thought or a consideration.
As a woman that dates a woman, are we expected to make certain concessions?
What if I can carry all of the groceries in the house without your help? What if I can pin you down in a wrestling match? What if I am better with a drill than you? What if…?
And if I do play that role as the weaker one, the feminine, less aggressive one, what difference does it make if we both know that it’s not reality?
Is it ok that I wear the pants from time to time as long as I wear a skirt over it?
Thoughts?
What I need to know is this how do you handle going from being a girlfriend to being just a friend and keep your dignity intact (even though on some level you feel you have lost respect for yourself)?
I must make this absolutely clear, every relationship does not have to end with friendship! I don’t know who altered the lesbian handbook to say that this was a requirement. There are so many of us that keep hurting ourselves because we’re trying to be friends with the bitch our former dream girl.
Stop it!
If being friends with her makes you feel like an idiot…
If she intentionally or unintentionally rubs her new chicks in your face…
If she is not respectful to your pain…
If she repeatedly blurs the lines of friendship physically or expects you to…
Stop it!
If you honestly feel that your ex adds something to your life that no one else can, I am not suggesting you cut her off forever…
However…
I do suggest you allow yourself time to heal. You have to let the wound close before so it won’t sting so much when you rub salt in it.
Your heart and your mind needs the opportunity to put your ex in a new category. This is no longer your go to girl, your ace, your down ass… You have to train your hands not to dial her number and your arms not to reach for her at night. It’s not a process that can be rushed, so don’t expose the wound any sooner than necessary.
If she really is a great person and she wants to keep you in her life, she’ll wait and accept any boundaries you need to have in place while you’re processing…
And if she doesn’t… She doesn’t deserve you in her life anyway…
There are no roles in our relationship. She doesn’t hold strong to the stud label and y’all know how I feel about being called a femme…but she is more boi than I and I more femme than she.
There are basic human needs that stretch beyond gender roles or identities. Subsistence, protection, affection, understanding, participation, leisure, creation, identity and freedom. Don’t believe me? Google it!!
It is easy to forget that your boifriend wants to feel protected. When she scoots you away from curb of the sidewalk (away from traffic) that doesn’t mean the need to feel protected doesn’t exist. It means that need has to be fulfilled in a different way. It’s up to you to figure out how.
It’s easy to get caught up in being the feminine one, especially if you’ve got a good boi. They will have you so high on yourself, you’ll forget anyone else’s needs even exist.
I had a couple of reminders recently… Sugar and I were walking through the park, she looked at me and asked if she looked ok. She looked great and I told her so. I made a mental note: Don’t forget the compliments!
I woke one morning, reached out to her placing my hand on her back and around to her stomach. I couldn’t sleep and I had to get up in an hour. I wanted to be close, but I didn’t want to be hot, so I only let my hand stay there for a few minutes before attempting to move away. She pulled my hand back and scooted closer. Mental note: Sugar wants to be held sometimes too.
With my first involvement with a woman, a guy friend told me to treat a woman how I always dreamed of being treated. So true. And it still applies, even if you’re in love with a boi…
I’ve been reading a lot recently. One of the books I had the pleasure of reading is “Accept the Unexpected” by L. Cherelle.
Accept the Unexpected allows readers of all backgrounds and orientations to experience the joys and trials of everyday, same gender loving Black women living in the South. This page-turner reinforces a simple, often ignored truth: all forms of love require genuine affection and sincere emotional connection.
The book kept you interested while moving you constantly forward. It was a quick read, almost too quick. As I mentioned to Cherelle, I did feel as though the story was unfinished. I was left wanting more pages, with more questions than answers. Luckily, Cherelle was able to answer those questions for me.
Where does this story come from?
“Accept the Unexpected” is the product of a lively imagination. The characters and events are loosely based off my personality, educational and employment experiences, in addition to my personal and professional relationships. Some aspects of the story stem from my desires—specifically the bonds that Keleya (i.e. the main character) shares with family members.
What was your biggest obstacle with completing this tale?
I began writing “Accept the Unexpected” while unemployed. At the time, writing was a way to fill monotonous days and the stress of job hunting. Eventually, I got a job (hated it!), but working full-time with varied hours stole my writing nights. So there was a two to three month gap in which I didn’t even look at or consider the story. Coming back to the Mac to complete the writing was challenging.
Would you rather be recognized as a Black Writer or A Lesbian Writer? Why?
I prefer to be recognized as a Black lesbian writer. This title is a proclamation of who I am and it indicates the genre of my first novel. Black lesbian writers are underdogs in the larger publishing industry. While there are a few notable and intermittent exceptions, contemporary Black lesbian writers have not received due respect from the mainstream publishing industry. The majority of Black lesbian fiction is self-published or released under small, independent publishers. And that’s okay. But until Black lesbian writers with stories that are representative of the diversity within the Black lesbian community become national bestselling authors, the genre will remain underground. In a society where Black women are often the “de mule uh de world” and Black lesbians are, comparatively, the “n**ga n**ga” of the world, a simple title can be remarkably political.
What feelings do you want to leave your readers with when they’ve reached the last line?
This pretty much depends on the reader’s experiences with intimate relationships and/or their attitudes toward same gender partnerships. Whether same gender loving or heterosexual, anyone who’s experienced meaningful relationships will walk away relating to the core themes. One thing I’m still learning in my relationship, which is very apparent at the close of the novel, is that it’s important to own your mistakes. Life lessons endure forever. So this may be a vicarious lesson for some or a reminder for others.
For those readers with limited experience with Black lesbian couples (or the LBGT community in general), or those who hold bias toward same sex preference, “Accept the Unexpected” may be an eye opener. The characters in the story emit palpable emotions, so these readers may end the novel feeling that a character or two were in some way comparable to her/himself. In doing so, these individuals will begin to understand that all forms of love deserve legal, social and cultural respect.
Why was it important to you to tell this story?
I wear many hats, but it was important for me to tell a story that represented some of my identities (i.e. Black, southern, lesbian in her mid-20s). There are so many everyday, Black lesbian women with balanced lives living in the South. But this is not reflected in the Black lesbian fiction I’ve read. In many of these stories, the lesbian characters are tragic and often exist in isolation (e.g. she has friends, but no family). Every human has struggles, however, every LBGT person’s life isn’t full of strife. Therefore, “Accept the Unexpected” is a snapshot of characters whose emotions, reactions, relationships (intimate, peer and familial), highs and lows, happiness and sorrow reflect many Black lesbian women’s experiences.
Unlike many channels in this country, literature is a form of communication in which we can exercise some level of control—especially with the advent of print on demand (which makes it easier to self-publish). The only other artistic art form in which you may find Black lesbian representations without mass restrictions is in the realm of fine or folk art. Our images and stories aren’t conveyed in mainstream avenues. We don’t have sitcoms. We don’t see A-list celebrities holding it down for sistahs who love sistahs. However, we can always read about our love and experiences in fiction, nonfiction and poetry. Those who follow Black lesbian fiction are well aware of the “A-listers” within this genre and are quick to notice when the new Black lesbian anything arrives on Amazon. Maybe if the “oldhead” and “newby” writers can saturate this genre with their work, our stories could possibly spill over into mass media. Regardless of my novel’s imperfections, that’s why it’s important to share Keleya’s story.
“Accept the Unexpected” is available on Amazon. Go check it out!
Jewel and Bean
Be sure to check out Jewel’s blog.
I love it when love is in the air…
Keep the submissions coming!
Yes, I’m still talking about my birthday… I had to wait for it to be over to give you true insight into what it was like.
I received so many gifts yesterday in the way of birthday wishes.
Please click on the title of the post to see it in it’s entirety…
Sugar called me this morning before I left for work. The tears started streaming. I was on the shuttle to the office and I felt my eyes filling with tears. I made a pit stop by the bathroom to get myself together.
I walked into the most ridiculous conversation being held directly in front of my work station. I immediately started laughing. Then D comes in and says in front of everyone “Happy Birthday!” I received much more attention than I wanted. Then Sugar has a delivery made to the office.
It’s about the middle of my work day now and I must say today hasn’t been nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
More thoughts on that later. I should probably get back to work…
It’s been grey, damp and dreary all week in Atlanta. I can’t help but to feel like the weather has mirrored my mood.
I could stand outside in the rain and my face wouldn’t be any wetter than it is right now.
It will be my birthday in a few hours. I wish I could skip the day. I dread the hanging of the date knowing my mama isn’t around to acknowledge it.
I’ve never made a big deal of my birthday. It has always meant a lot to me to have people remember and do something thoughtful rather than some kind of grand gesture.
Mama would always buy me a card and something simple. Candy. Something with Tweety on it. It never really mattered what it was because I knew how much thought she put into everything.
Can we just skip to the 15th?
I really don’t want to pretend to be happy when I’m not.
I can’t.
I can’t.
I felt the need to clarify after I received a few comments about me coming out on my last post.
I am out!!
I am not in the closet.
My post is not about me telling people I’m gay. They already know that. My relationship status on Facebook doesn’t simply state I am in a relationship. It states I am in a relationship with Sugar. I’ve had our picture as my default.
I don’t hide from them, but I don’t flaunt it either. Yesterday, I wanted to flaunt it. Today, I still want to flaunt it. Tomorrow, I’m sure I will feel the same way.
I believe you get to a degree of acceptance from people that you know are uncomfortable with your sexuality that makes you either want to stir it up or accept it for what it is.
I know that I can bring Sugar home with me, introduce her as my girl and no one will be rude. They will actually be down right friendly…But no one is gonna ask us when we’re getting married or how we met…
Those are the type of things I’d like to be bold enough to share, but I don’t want to lose the acceptance I’ve managed to acquire over time.
Get it?
I wanted to do something big today. Something brave. Today. National Coming Out Day.
Everyone in my everyday life knows I’m a lover of women and one particular woman. My coworkers know her. My boss has her phone number programmed in her phone. Nobody cares.
Now in my other life, the life I have that exists out of the parameters of work, Atlanta, and this blog…Hmmm…They know too. Most of them, but I don’t share my romantic life with those people. Part of me wants to. Part of me feels like I owe it to them to, but there is also a part of me that fears their knowledge.
I have this post saved as a draft called Dear Family, I’m Gay. It’s been a draft for over a year now. The day I actually post it, my plan is to post it on Facebook as well on my other account. The one with my family and coworkers.
I want it to be an in your face kinda move. I want it to confirm any doubts they may have had. I want them to mortified, horrified and proud all at the same time, but before they can feel anything, I have got to get up the courage to post it.
Sigh.
“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, I will try again tomorrow.” Mary Anne Radmacher
Y’all are going to get tired of me talking about work, but in our Monday morning department meeting my heart strings got pulled a bit.
There are only about 6 of us that report to D, so they are usually pretty casual. Today, P was there too. One of our co-workers lost his mother unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago. While we were out partying the other night, the same co-worker was robbed. The intruders even had the audacity to dump his mother’s ashes…
Y’all know that hit home for me, right?
Y’all know my mother was cremated?
Sigh.
P asked for donations to help him. Evidently, everything was taken. The company is going to match whatever we donate.
My company’s logo is a circle comprised of three people holding hands. I’m happy that is not something that we just portray to our clients. We invest that same spirit back into the company resources. Us.