A Post-Queer Relationship

Everyone spends their Spring Break in different ways. Some people go abroad, exploring the world and learning about new cultures. Others stay at home, watching TV, sleeping, and catching up with old friends. While I certainly did plenty of the latter, I also did something both more stressful and more rewarding than watching bad movies on TV: worked things out with my ex.

I’m not here to share the nitty-gritty details (disappointing, I know…) but I do want to talk about something that some of you might or might not relate to, because I’m struggling with it right now. My ex is a wonderful person—funny, sweet, talented, caring, good taste in women (…), and—dare I say it—very sexy. The other thing is that my ex is a guy, and we dated in high school, when I was still in that proverbial closet.

Strangely enough, I’m having trouble reconciling my queerness with our newly re-ignited relationship. This isn’t because he’s a man and I feel like I can’t be with guys, because as I may have mentioned in a previous post, I’m definitely bi. It’s more because he doesn’t know me as a queer woman—he knows me as his (formerly straight) ex-girlfriend.

Don’t get me wrong—he’s very accepting of my bisexuality. He’s not uncomfortable with it, nor is he creepily excited because he thinks girls who are bi are slutty or always open to a third party in the bedroom. I came out to him in November, two months after I was out at Yale and a month and a half after I broke up with him. He was understandably surprised, primarily because he thought it would’ve come up in conversation before. It was difficult for me to explain to him that the reason I never came out to him wasn't that I thought he would judge or attack me. He couldn't understand why I never felt like I could tell him! The simple answer, of course, is that I had barely admitted it to myself.

We’ve talked about it since then, multiple times. We’ve talked about what my queerness means to me, what it means for us, and even covered simple questions. “When did you know?” “Who was the first person you told?” And so on. But I'm still struggling.

I just don’t know how to be a queer woman in a relationship whose foundations are pretty damn hetero. How can I reconcile who I am today with who I was when we first got together? If you have any advice, please hit me up. I could definitely use some words of wisdom.

I Hate to Support the Ex-Gay Movement on Anything...

But I can't in good conscience support the petition demanding that Apple remove an app by Exodus International for its anti-gay content.

Exodus is one of the leading ex-gay Christian organizations in the country, and, as you might expect, their propaganda, on their website and on their app, is profoundly misleading and hateful.  But it's not any worse than what you're likely to find on the Exodus website, which is accessible through the Safari browser on your iPhone.  Why is it unacceptable for them to promote the same hurtful message through an app, if it's perfectly all right for them run a similar website.

I suspect many of the signatories to the petition don't see a qualitative difference between app content and web content. The only real distinction is that, here, there's a censor to appeal to.  Apple wants to act as a gatekeeper for content and is committed to removing apps which are "offensive to large groups of people."  That's not an approach I want to endorse.

People with smartphones paid for memory storage.  They should be able to keep any kind of content saved to their device, whether or not I find it offensive.  Apple has a history of infantilizing and abusing its app store customers by withdrawing any app that musters a vocal opposition.   Among the deleted: an app criticizing Mohammed and the Koran, a saucy satirist, and anything that might boost Apple's rivals.  Apple's power to censor needs to be curbed, not expanded.

If you want to attack the app, feel free to leave a negative reviews, as many already have.  The app evaluation system means you've got a much better chance to present your argument to people who may be wavering; after all, most websites don't let you critique their content on their homepage.  This is the appropriate response to the Exodus app and all other offensive apps.  The gay rights movement can't let our legitimate outrage with Exodus be used to help Apple legitimize its terrible approach to content and the rights of the tech user.

UPDATE: Apple pulled the app.

Traveling Women

So...I'm guessing since we're all on break, digging holes in Peru or becoming reacquainted with sleep, not too many of you are going to be reading this. But what the hell. It'll be a treat after that blistering sunburn and aching back, or muscle atrophy brought on by not leaving bed for two weeks.

After falling asleep after my last midterm, scrambling to force more shit in my overflowing duffle bag (I like to travel light), and having the CT Limo driver yell at me for arriving late/forgetting my reservation number, I was officially en route to JFK. Hello Spring Break! I rolled up around 4:30 AM, and despite having to wait 3 hours for my flight to San Fran, I was on Spring Break and brimming with excitement. When I finally reached the gate, I think part of me was expecting the lights to go down, music to start up, and women to come flooding out in ripped shorts and tank tops. So when I settled in to a mostly empty waiting area (my only companions being a sleeping elderly man and an arguing Indian family), you can imagine my disappointment. Where were all the debauchery seeking college students, or more importantly, gay women? Definitely not there. My fantasy started to fizzle and I ended up joining the snoozing grandpa in a little zzzs. Fast forward to boarding time. I awake to a crowded and active gate. The eldery man is awake as well, now munching on a delicious looking egg sandwich (mmm), and the Indian family has relocated to the counter and seems to now be arguing with the attendant. Hmm...I take in the rest of the crowd. Although I figure I look a bit disheveled and could have recently been drooling/snoring, I'm still looking for prospects. To the left, some guy ogling a woman bending over in line, and to the right, just what I was looking for: a group of girls in torn jeans, flannels, and combat boots (AND carrying guitars. Score!) Sorry but girls playing guitars (hopefully well) = hot. While I might sound incredibly shallow in this entry, I think most can admit to appreciating women on looks alone. The great thing about spotting hot girls while traveling is that even if you don't actually have the pleasure of meeting them, you still can admire.

On this particular day, I have to say I did a whole lot of looking with only some mild flirting, and no real action. While usually I'd have to worry about determining the object of my desire's orientation, transient attractions don't need any real clarification. Whatever her preference, I can look with no concern of future interactions, misunderstandings, etc. If I do end up talking and flirting with a girl, there's usually little chance of it going anywhere, but it does offer a great source of fun while it lasts. For me, being a fantasist (artistically speaking of course), traveling women provide great material. Unlike women you only pass for a moment on the street, those at the airport at your gate and on your flight stay in your midst for a longer, albeit limited, amount of time. You can choose the fantasy or interactive route, or perhaps a combination of the two. If one were to choose the latter route, it's still in a safe and buffered atmosphere for those trying to test out their flirting/gaydar skills. If it takes, you have a good 4 or 5 hours to play, and if it doesn't, it's still only 4 or 5 hours until you never see one another again. Either way, it's a win.

On my trip, I didn't have the pleasure of doing much interaction, mainly because I was still slightly disoriented/sleep deprived, but having even the hope of interaction made up for all the other hassles of traveling. I did have one great moment while waiting at the curb outside arrivals. Just seconds before my mom came to pick me up, I turned to my right and noticed a girl loading her suitcase in the back of a truck. As she closed the tailgate and made her way to the passenger's door, she turned just slightly and we made brief eye contact. She paused before getting in and grinned at me. Then, as soon as it had started, she was gone. Nonetheless, those moments can't help but keep me smiling. It reminds me that even though at Yale and throughout most of the country, we (being gay/bi/curious women) seem to be non-existent or extremely well hidden, every so often a little event takes place that reminds me we are alive and well.

Wishing you all safe and flirtation filled travels :D

A

Defending Gays from Marriage?

Barack Obama's decision not to defend DOMA is a big step forward for proponents of gay marriage, but not all queer people are that invested in the outcome.  Some gay activists support equality generally but think that marriage is an intrinsically heterosexist or destructive institution and don't want queers to buy into it.

If you're interested in thinking and talking about this issue, you should come by the YPU debate "R: Abolish No Fault Divorce" tonight.  Don't be put off by the topic or by the fact that the guest is from *shudder* Focus on the Family; the YPU picked this topic to have a debate about the goals of the institution of marriage and whether it's desireable for everyone.  I know that Marian, one of the people scheduled to speak, is giving a very liberal, anti-marriage speech.  She's excellent and sure to be thought-provoking, so it will be worth waiting through the (probably offensive) remarks of the guest to hear her.

The debate starts at 7:30 in WLH 119.  If you have any questions about format or asking questions, post here or grab me at the debate (I'm the one with very curly brown hair).

Pleading the 5th

So over this weekend I had the unfortunate responsibility of interacting with some police officers. No worries, Sapphists, I'm not in trouble, nor is anyone I love. However, there were police, in my suite, asking my questions. One of the things they asked was how many people lived in my suite, and where my suitemate was. She was with her girlfriend. I, completely without thinking, told the officer that she was with "her friend."

When I was thinking about this later, I was reminded of an event earlier in the year, at the now-infamous Stiles-Morse screw. While we were waiting to be processed by the officers coming around to check people's IDs, my (female) date and I were holding hands since we were so frightened. However, when the officer got within eyeshot, we both let go of each other without even making eye contact.

I'm out'n'proud with 95% of the people I interact with. Why is it that when around police, I (and I don't think I'm alone in this) tend to hide my sexuality? I've never personally been harassed by police officers for being queer, nor have any of my friends, that I'm aware of, and yet I've come to implicitly distrust them. Have any of y'all been in situations with police, positive or negative, where your sexuality has come into play? Is it unjust of me to mistrust them? Let me know in the comments!

Epiphany

Last night, I had an epiphany. While it wasn’t the most pivotal moment of my life thus far by any degree (that happened today when I watched Ke$ha’s new video and heard the exclamation “Muenster is like edible lactose gold!” but I digress), it was something that had always been in the back of my mind. You see, last night being Saturday and of course being filled with all the expectations of a stereotypical college weekend, I went out… hard. Naturally, the chemicals in my body caused my philosophical side to come out, which means I talk and think a lot, usually in that order and usually about deep and meaningful subjects like hooking up.

“Guys,” I said to my suitemates, “Guys, really, listen. I love women!”

“We know,” they said laughing.

“No, really,” I protested, grabbing them by their shoulders and then throwing my own head in my hands, “They’re just… so beautiful!” (I feel it worthy of note to mention that when I am under the influence of anything, my voice gets about 4 octaves higher, which means all of this was said in a Minnie Mouse-like voice.)

Actually, this is an apt depiction of what I act like...

They, as always, laughed at my shenanigans, and we went on our merry way.

We arrived at our destination and stumbled onto the dance floor, shaking our things to Katy Perry’s “Firework.” We danced, we laughed, we bonded, all that good stuff, but we were a group of women at a frat party, so outsiders occasionally interrupted our fun times.

Greek Symposiums: Original Frat Parties

Here is where my epiphany took place. As I was deftly negotiating myself out of a potentially sticky (haha) situation, I realized something: I have no way to tell when to hit on a woman at a party. Parties here are so hetero-inclined that I wouldn’t know the first thing to do to see if a girl might be interested in dancing, let alone anything else.

So, what do you do, ladies of Sappho? Is it an awkward let’s-make-eye-contact-and-maybe-she’ll-take-the-hint-and-come-over kind of deal? Is it acceptable to be aggressive and risk offending someone? Or should we invent some kind of internationally accepted signal in order to communicate, “Yes, I’m single. Yes, I like women. Yes, I would love to share a dance with you,” or even “Yes, I’m single. Yes, I like women, but hell no, I’m not touching that!” because then, at least, I could accept my sheer lack of game without question.

"Yes!"

"Ah, hell no!"

Irrational fears?

So i just found out that i get to (have to?) meet my girlfriend's dad tomorrow! And somehow I'm kind of panic stricken about it! I think it might be that she isn't out to him and so I'll be meeting him as her "best friend". Although this takes some of the pressure that comes from meeting the parents of someone when they know your dating, at the same time Im really scared of messing that up!

Will he know I'm gay? do I pretend to be straight? what if he can tell from the way I look at her/talk to her etc that we are dating?

So much pressure! and so much potential for disaster!