Some Thoughts About Dating Women

I’m not one to beat around the bush, so here goes for my confessions of the day year: I think I’m ready to start dating women. I’ve never actually been in a relationship with one and I know I wrote a lot about questioning whether I was lesbian or bisexual or just confused (ha!), but I never did much about it. It just sat there like this great big canyon left unexplored and I was a bit terrified to go there. I still am. Most of the people I know are homophobic and would probably disapprove, or even worse, my girl friends would think I liked them. I don’t. My family definitely wouldn’t approve and they’d be all weird about it. I don’t even not want to date men. I’ll date men if I find one I like. The problem with labels is that people get all weird about them. I am still the awesome person I’ve always been and that wouldn’t change at all if I changed who I dated. But people can’t see past that and I’m sensitive. Not to mention, I’m not about to join a flag waving rainbow crew dancing down the street. I just want to see if I’d be happier and more understood.

It's my blog, I do what I want
It’s my blog, I do what I want

But let me break it down for you. Every few years one (maybe two) women come along that leave me thinking about them. A lot. These women are intellectual, sometimes feminine, artsy, beautiful and just downright sexy. Maybe a year ago there was another one added to the list (this list has four, maybe five women on it). She was in a serious relationship and she was a tomboy (not entirely, but for sake of needing something cute to call her, it’s stuck). I’ve always been the kind of person who didn’t understand the attraction to the tomboy lesbians, but color me wrong. She has a motorcycle and tattoos and drinks beer. I was in love lust. But the funny part is, even with these feelings, I wouldn’t let myself go there because of the fear of what people would think. And let’s be honest: lesbians move fast. So if there’s any interest, you’re basically married in 24 hours. That’s just not something I’m used to. And on top of all of that, there’s the risk of not knowing the person too well. So you hope they’re the kind that wouldn’t cheat on you and would treat you well, but you just never know.

The Tomboy ended up breaking it off with the serious relationship and was single for a bit. Then she started dating someone and not long after, she was engaged. The funny thing is, I’m so self-absorbed I didn’t notice she wasn’t talking to me until recently and I missed talking to her. And then I had this moment where I was like, “I wish I was engaged to her.” Which is weird…when you self-identify as straight and always have. So I gave it some thought and realized what was going on really was happening, so I should go with it. Except when someone’s engaged, you don’t really “go” with it anywhere because that would be rude. Although I actually did think twice about saying something and then my friends convinced me that I should wait it out.

The thing about dating men is that it’s so last year. Just kidding. The thing about dating men is that they seem to misinterpret lady things as negatives: if you’re emotional, you’re needy; if you’re outspoken, you’re a bitch; if you are direct, you come on too strong. I’ve had straight men tell me that dating a woman wouldn’t solve that and that women they know who date women fight nonstop, but that was literally based on one relationship. And so what if they fight? At least they can communicate with each other. I’ll tell you one thing: I have zero idea what it would be like to date a woman but I’ll let you know if it ever happens so you can try it out too.

It’s my blog. I do what I want.

Labels are for Soup Cans

My friend Ashley (props to her for the blog title and other phrases) suggested a book to me called Same Sex in the City. My lovely Kindle Fire picked up the sample, I read it, and then I freaked the fuck out.

I’m a lesbian who likes men.


My friend Ashley (props to her for the blog title and other phrases) suggested a book to me called Same Sex in the City. My lovely Kindle Fire picked up the sample, I read it, and then I freaked the fuck out.

I identified with everything the authors said. By all estimates, I was a lesbian. Terrified, I closed that book and decided to work on myself one thing at a time. And that one thing would not include my sexuality…for a long time.

I mean, I’ve got other things to “work on” and discover. Don’t we all?

The sad thing is, I’m all enlightened and shit. It’s 2012. I’ve been blogging since 2010 and all of a sudden I’m scared of my sexuality? Yep. I still am. I’ve made major progress–coming out as non-Christian, then as atheist, then as a feminist. I suppose that’s all good.

After my last bf (boyfriend) and I broke up, and after I incessantly talked about dating women during our relationship, I was immediately happy. My first thought, “Now I can finally date a woman!” Then I spent an entire weekend with my family to “recover” and realized that they’d never accept me. They still insult me for voting for the n-word Obama.

Tied into the “Am I a lesbian?” panic is my difficulty getting along with men. My childhood was riddled with a physically abusive stepfather who beat the sh*t out of my mom when I was fifteen and then manipulated her into staying around for 27 years. I haven’t been normal since. Around thirteen, pre-beating, I became a feminist. It was fueled out of rebellion against my dad’s sexist, machismo ways I’m sure, but also by my desire to help others. (See also: Major Childhood Issues). But at fifteen, my dad was in Alcholics Anonymous and Spousal Abuse classes where he’d gotten “saved” and “given his life to the Lord.” So, he obviously had to sit me down one night and ask me if I’d been saved.

Long story short, I was saved, became a reverend, joined a cult, etc. The story in it’s entirety is in my website, which is currently down from being hacked. More on that later.

Being saved and having an abusive father definitely played into my fear of sexuality. For example, as a Christian, being gay is something that can rub off on you. It’s a choice. It’s a sin. It’s also something that qualifies you to be called a pervert. Being a pedofile priest does not qualify you, though, because they’re doing the Lord’s work.

My father is a tea-partier, Rush Limbaugh loving fundamentalist. To say we’ve clashed in the past few years is an understatement. I do try to keep the peace, though, and I’ve found that in doing so, I’ve been forced to lead a double life. Or chosen. Either way, I’ve started running away from family conflict and in an effort to keep the peace and not make the wife-beater’s temper flare, I just keep my mouth shut.

There are few benefits to keeping your mouth shut.

In the past few weeks, things in my family have drastically changed. My parents have split up and divorce papers have been filed. While each one of us have struggled with the difficulty of this, I think we’ve realized it’s best. It’s also radically shifted something for me: I’ve become a bit more liberated. No more walking around on egg shells, wondering when I’m going to get yelled at or picked on. No more Are-you-a-dyke? talks. No more cycles of violence.

At least that’s how it feels. It feels like a big burden has been lifted through this divorce, and although I’ve come to love my father as a complex human with a good side and a bad side, I’m happy my mom won’t be treated as sub-human anymore and I won’t be treated as a threat for standing up for her.



The other benefits to watching a terrible marriage end is a huge reality check. Marriage isn’t for everyone and preventative measures should be taken to protect your assets, your individuality, and your well-being before entering a marriage (if you choose to do so). I’ve spent the several years following my exit from a cult wishing I was married with kids, not because I wanted that, but because I’d been brainwashed by the Church that a woman’s place was in her husbands home.

I’m becoming excited for my new-found liberty. My life is fulfilling and so is my job. I think I’d like kids, my own or maybe to be a stepmom, but I’m sure as hell not in a rush. I think I’m actually pretty damn content for the first time in my life. Not perfect–far from it. Fuck, I have so many issues I need a personal assistant to keep up with them. But I’m finally getting over that goddamn pressure to get married in order to “be complete.” And I can thank my parents divorce for that.

As for my sexuality…this discussion is to be continued. If you’ve had your own coming out confusion and experience, leave me a comment or Facebook me.