Monday, June 6, 2011

Chasing Amy

I've heard the title of that movie over and over and over when people find out I'm a lesbian. "Have you seen Chasing Amy?! Omg, best lesbian movie ever!" Okay... no. So far, Water Lilies has been the absolutely favorite lesbian movie... to date. But I'm going to rant about Chasing Amy first.

Okay... so... she's gay, and "OMG! I'M GAY GAY GAY GAY!" and then a big MAKE OUT SCENE WITH A DUDE?! Seriously?! Uhhhh... no, bitch. That isn't how this shit works.

Okay, okay. I get it. She was just looking for love and never found it with males. She experimented and then dated women for awhile and then got lovestruck by a man. I know I'm going to sound VERY man hating and such... but let's all face it: The movie was written by a man and it is the ultimate male fantasy to bed a lesbian and make her their own.

The entire movie makes me so angry. So angry and so hurt.

Now don't be mistaken, I have had sexual relations with men before. More than I'd care to fess up to... but that just validates me all the more. I have been in numerous relationships with men... of all ages and shapes and sizes. (Take that how ya want) To be honest, nothing gets me (physically, emotionally... in that romantical kind of way) like a woman does.

The way a woman walks, holds her self... When a woman can chop off all of her hair, wear boxers and be flawless without fitting the "social" mold. O, mama. I love spotting a butch from across the room. Watching her talk with others, move in her clothes that were meant for another gender. It's kind of like her sticking her middle finger into the air to social stigmas and saying, "I'm above your idea of beauty! I am beautiful without your Cosmo sissy, bullshit!" Those soft lips forming around words and making everything excitable.

I can't say a man has ever done that for me. Not even for a little while. I say this and I've been engaged twice... to men. I partially blame my parents for letting me get engaged at such a young age... twice... before I even graduated high school. (Both guys being graduated and in their 20s, mind you) But that's southern culture. Find your husband in high school, get married the summer after graduation and start popping out those kids before you're old enough to consume alcohol.

Such a horrible idea that is.

Now, at the brink of my 24th birthday I cannot imagine dating someone in high school... much less a teenager. There is such a huge emotional evolution between the ages 18 and 21. Fuck, here is a generous learning gap between 21 and 23. I didn't officially step out of the metaphorical closet until I was 21yrs old. I had never even SEEN a gay person until I was 18 when I was interning at a radio station. I got passed along the information by a night DJ... that the mid-day DJ that I had been fantasizing about for years... (as a listener) was a lesbian. It made me question everything. I didn't feel validated... I felt disgusted with myself and guilty. My parents are very religious and I had attended church camps growing up. My first and only celebrity crush since I was 8 or 9yrs old was Angelina Jolie... I never liked any of the men celebs. That should have been a big red flag for me but being gay was not allowed. My town maybe held maybe a thousand people... I had less than 400 people in my entire school and I clung to new kids like you would a life raft. None of the girls I knew were gay and the only time I had heard the word "lesbian" it was hurled at me rather than gently used as a descriptive. I dated guys from other schools or had already been graduated because I felt like there was a bridge built between us that could never be crossed. I only dated men when I saw the blinking exit sign easily attainable.

The guy I was engaged to my senior year asked me to move with him "back home". "Back home" being Anchorage, Alaska. I gladly accepted. I had attempted my first year of college at a community college. My favorite uncle had just died a slow painful death from cancer and his wife of over 20yrs was moving the man she was screwing behind my uncle's back the last few years of his life into my uncle's house. Kicking my cousins out into the streets. Let's just say my entire life was crumbling. I was dealing with my feelings about the woman I worked with at my internship and I had just dropped out of community college with my cousin whom had just lost her father and basically mother. I was angry, confused and everyone else seemed to have bigger problems then me struggling with my sexual urges. And plus, his family was paying for the move.

I moved to Alaska with full intentions of "getting it right" and marrying this guy, having kids and all that bullshit. Well... for those of you who have never been to Alaska... Although Palin has done a really fucking nutjob of representing it on a global level... Anchorage, Alaska is very similar to Greensboro, NC... climate aside. Very liberal and home to many hippies. Probably the most hard core hippies you will ever meet. It's a very diverse place. About a month after moving to this, well basically, new planet... I get a job at a Physical Therapy office as a receptionist. I buy a car. Buying a car was probably the best decision I have ever made in my entire life... second to moving to Alaska. I remember going to the health-nut organic stores and seeking out the lesbians shopping or working there. I would kind of stalk them and feel the lust bubble up inside of me. Not lust because they were attractive, but lust because they could be who they wanted to be and no one seemed to care.

I got an email saying that my high school friend had died just days after buying my car. A girl whom I had my first "homo moments" with. A girl whom I wanted with all my heart and had no idea about it until I had received that email. Her and I had had a falling out quite some time before I had gotten that email... so we hadn't spoken in the better of a year or so. I had a petty crush on her, but we had basically lived together for a couple summers since I was a freshman in high school. For two years I pined for her in ways I didn't even realize. She was my first girl crush but I didn't even know. My life shattered. I remember collapsing and crying for hours before getting enough courage to call a mutual friend of her and I to ask if it was lies. I hoped it was lies. That was my moment of realizing something was "wrong" with me.

Don't get me wrong... losing just a friend is just as devastating... but it felt different. I had lost friends before, but it never felt like losing her did. I told "the Alaska ex" that I couldn't be with him anymore. Not only because he didn't seem to give a shit I was broken into millions of pieces... but because the truth was becoming undeniable. A month later I moved back in with my parents.

Living under my parents roof again not only felt like a new beginning, but a lot of the same old things too. I quickly found a new guy to date which had a quick exit. I had moved in with my grandmother because moving home AND living with my father again was just way too much to stomach on top of everything else. I started working at the radio station again and was dating a guy that was more like a friendship. Or at least to me it was. He was from out of state and hated living in that part of the state as much as I did. Well, I was getting close to being able to afford living on my own and working two jobs.... I had also met a girl at one of my jobs.

She had short hair, huge blue eyes and lips I dreamed of at any spare moment. She was close to my age and stunning. I couldn't fight it anymore. I couldn't. I had to be with her. Not because she was the first opportunity to be in a relationship with a female... but because my entire everything wanted her to want me back. It was very obvious by how she dressed that she was gay. After our first conversation and her dropping the "ex girlfriend" phrase... it was all I could do not to make a scene by forcing my mouth on to hers. The guy I was dating quickly realized I was in love with someone else.... to his dismay it was with a female. He broke things, yelled, kicked me out. Crying and angry he called me a "fucking dyke".

I drove home that night fighting the urge to show up at her doorstep and just ask for a hug. That's all I wanted. I was still living with my parents and knew that it was unacceptable for me to be in love with a female.... but hours before my last male ex had called me a "fucking dyke" she had told me she wanted to kiss me back... and that made everything okay.

That, is true. That is real life. That is how people find out who they are. Through situations in life and I am truly jealous of those bold enough and brave enough to be openly gay while in high school. To take that leap and try to be with someone of the same sex... not because it's trendy, but because it's the only thing that feels right. It's what matters. It breaks my heart to hear of these suicides because they either were struggling with how it made them feel... or because others made them feel wrong the way I felt wrong. Because they were brave enough to do something (be gay. Just to be gay) I was terrified of doing when I was in their shoes. I could've easily been them... but I was too weak to recognize in me what they were so aware of and feared living with for the rest of their lives.... so they chose not to have a "rest of".

I'm not exactly sure why I typed out my "coming out" story... but this is just my personal "coming out". When I came out to my family.... well, it was a whole 'nother story.

And basically: Chasing Amy was full of man-written bullshit.

That is all.

Blessed Be,

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