The Lesbian Experience: You little Rug Munchier
As homosexuals, lesbians, bottoms and fagots, we are supposed to have a dramatic coming out story to tell at parties where we say, “after I got really drunk, I went home and told my mother, look I like eating flower over swallowing anaconda and I don’t want to look at the one eyed snake anymore because that feels gay, that feels sinful. I just want to put my face in a bush and smell it,” but that never happened. My mother never called me a bush lover. My whole family was oddly okay with me coming out, considering when Ellen DeGeneres was on television, my mother literally said, “Get that lesbian off the TV,” and when I was watching Rent, my father said, “I don’t want to watch a bunch of fagots jumping around.” When I was younger and therefore more dramatic, I was seriously offended and wounded by my parent’s comments. I found them highly insensitive, so I punished them by going on aggressive political rants about equal rights, and how they were acting like bigots. At the time, I was acting like an obvious homosexual, and that is why it was no surprise to my family when I brought home a girl. They were like thank you captain obvious; we had enough clues by your walls being plastered in Jessica Alba photos and you watching every lesbian movie ever.
With hindsight, forcing my father to watch Rent was like putting his hand through a meat grinder. However, it was an important process for me at the time to fight for my own identity, though I could only see my own limited perspective. I felt offended by the slightest remarks, and as a black lesbian, I was really ready to be offended and call everyone small-minded idiots. The reality of my situation was nobody really cared or was offended that I was a lesbian, but I was offended and felt deep shame. It wasn’t the outside world that couldn’t accept me; I couldn’t seem to accept myself because I held on tightly to a few negative remarks. Once my good friend Eric said, “Do you know that bisexuals and biracial people are the most likely types of all to kill themselves,” and I was like holy cow that must be true and means I’m going stick my head in an oven right now because it feels like everyone hates me, but this dark and negative perspective was far from the truth.
This negative perspective about what to expect as a lesbian, got its start in childhood when I was subconsciously taught to reject myself at church. Christianity was a big part of my upbringing, remains a part of my adult life, and put a lot of peer pressure on me to conform. A few people with big mouths told me I had to change for god, so I tried really hard to be straight and this created a lot of pain and depression in my life. It made my friends happy to see me with a man, but I was dying spiritually and emotionally. All my sexual experiences with men left me feeling disgusted, frustrated, trapped and used. It felt unnatural being with men, especially in comparison to being with women. If it weren’t for the preacher who convinced me to go shag boys, I would be a gold star lesbian.
I’ve known I was gay since I was a little girl, and wish I would have trusted my instincts and my intuition instead of trying to please others. Trying to please others by being straight led me down a very dark and sinful path where i keep trying boys on like hats. In truth a young lesbian shouldn’t run off to church when she is figuring herself out or any gay for that matter. It’s hard enough dealing with the confusion of love and gender, without having to figure out our salvation. I’m going to tell you right now, god is fine with you being a rainbow flyer if you are a good person, but the people in the church might have a problem with you. Yes, it’s largely due to one’s own fear of sexuality, but not everyone can afford a therapist and become high-minded. What I like to do because I don’t have an interesting coming out story is tell people at cocktail parties, “Our bodies are just an illusion. Are souls are so much bigger than that.”
As a lesbian the most pretentious response, I get is from the religious community, who goes you like woman, that’s awful I’ll pray for you, and then of course the cat calls from men who go, don’t worry baby, you just ain’t had good dick yet. And the most disturbing comments I get are from bitter women who go, you are just a lesbian because you were raped and fear men. At this stage in my life these comments amuse me. I have learned to role with the punches. I know I could turn most good little Christian girls out if I got five minutes alone with them. I know men are dogs that will hump anything that walks, and I know I’m gay because I’m sexually and emotionally attracted to women. I don’t fear men. That’s not why I’m with women. That is such a ridiculous comment to make; liking women actually has nothing to do with men. News flash; Women are goddesses. I was gay before I was taught long division. I was gay before I knew what sex was. For me coming out wasn’t some lifetime movie I can wrap up in one moment. Coming out is a process that will continue long after committing to my wife. Then we got to explain to the kids why Mommy and Mommy are different than other families and we might have to deal with some women’s crusade to keep the children of gays out of the classroom, I know it’s been said a thousand times, but people take life way to seriously and need to stop with the witch hunts.
No, I can’t tell you a cute story about coming out to my best friend who happened to be crushing on me too, but I can tell you what I’ve learned; there are going to be jerks like me who think men should never wear that much makeup even if they are queens. Life is full of jerks and cowards, and people who think we must like the same sex because we were sexually abused or have a demon in us, but none of these things should encumber our lives with negativity. We should not allow others to shame us. It’s better to get that thick skin and learn to laugh at what others have to say about us. We should never let people cloud our view and see our predicaments as negative. I don’t want a negative self image. I have to be me till the day I die. I want to think positively of myself, so I learned to walk away from people who view me as evil or awful, or as a person that needs to be changed, because the divine perception of me is that I’m great, deserving of love and glory, so I have chosen to go with divine perspective over what mere mortals think.
Overall, lesbian life is amazing. I’m not pissed off God made me a lesbian. I thank God for it because I love pussy. I get to touch the pussy, and lick the pussy, and kiss those soft lips, the sweet delight of being with a kind, nurturing woman, I thank God for it. It would be a lie for me to tell you, it’s hard to be a lesbian or that my life is hell. It feels like heaven on earth being with a woman. It feels like hell being with a man, to me that feels wrong, that feels sinful. I am not going to tell you how pissed off I am about social inequality, or that nobody will let me get married, because in some ways I have more access to the world then a straight couple. If I ever want to have public sex, it doesn’t look weird when my lover comes into the bathroom with me. We can share clothes and truly understand each other because we both know what it’s like to be a woman in a chauvinistic world. I won’t accidentally get pregnant. My risk of sexually transmitted disease goes way down because lesbians have the lowest transference of disease, probably because they don’t shoot cum everywhere and make you swallow their cum, but the best part about being a lesbian is women make great lovers. They make love with their whole bodies while men are so phallic oriented. News flash: even straight women want you to stop thinking with your penis and really learn how to make love. Women know how to make love, and nothing in my entire life has felt better than being in the presence of my princess.
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