I raise a sternful eyebrow at lesbians that don’t like bisexuals. And mutter a confused, ‘what the fuck’ under my breath when listening to their justifications.
When did there become a moral upper ground on sexuality?
And then even more quizzical: Why would we have it?
It’s almost baffles me to the point of struggling to write this blog.
I really do struggle understanding how people can hear the shit coming out of their mouths and then believe it.
It’s like dumb and dumber. The monologue.
Having cheated on my husband, and since I credit this as part of my path to becoming polyamorous, I must confess I am biased in the argument over whether polyamory is of any use in resolving cheating. If cheating is symptomatic of a grave and incurable narcissism in a partner then certainly polyamory will not resolve anything. However there are other reasons why people cheat.
I think very often one of the true motives behind cheating is treating love as a currency in relationships, and assuming you are poor. I certainly know this to be true of my own relationship before we became polyamorous. Furthermore there is a great deal of insecurity and distrust in relationships where one or both partners cheat.
In most monogamous relationships there is a quite common idea that states that, upon marriage/dating/co-habiting all your romantic love now belongs to your partner.
In this context having another relationship essentially involves you giving your love, which does not belong to you because you are part of a couple, to another person. If love is a currency, then having a second relationship is like buying one partner with your finite measure of love, then taking the love back and buying another with the same currency. Apart from the pain of the implied rejection, there is a great measure of outrage over the fraud implicit in this scenario. Even if this is done by agreement it will be very painful for at least one party in the trio.
Some of you may remember my previous post (Surviving Cape Town: A Single Lesbian’s attempts). A lot has happened since then, and it deserves an update. I was stunned and amazed by the response my post generated, as I had no idea that so many women felt the same way. I’ve had lesbians seek me out on social media, and I even landed a little freelance writing work. I’ve even had girls contact me from faraway places: Thailand, Australia, and Simon’s Town.
I’ve met lesbians who were going to get married, lesbians who secretly eloped to Paarl to get married, and lesbians who have been married to men. I’ve communicated with caffeine-addicted PR hotshots and psy-trans hippies. I’ve met a single gay mum, a girl with a ‘chequered past’ (her mother’s words), and a woman with the most beautiful sense of urban Woodstock chic you’ve ever seen. I’ve also met an ADD artist, and a lesbian who’s never been with a woman. My orgy of Sapphic coffee meetings wasn’t limited to the Mother City, though. During a recent visit to Jo’burg, I even met a talented tattooed photographer, whom I now dub ‘ladydude’.
I’ve been introduced to concepts like masculine femininity, queer and gender fluidity. I’ve learnt about Unitarianism, Sado-Masochism and Political Lesbianism. I’ve also discovered that a ‘flat white’ is Capetonian for cappuccino.
Insane? Yes. Wonderful? Yes. Filled with gratitude? Totally. Screw up my coffee order again? Not a chance.
I have lesbians coming at me from all directions, from out of the woodwork to out of the closet. But this isn’t a brag-fest. I want to share my insights and observations with you. Read and learn, introverted lesbian grasshoppers.
First thing’s first. Contrary to popular belief, women won’t know you exist if they can’t see you. Flying beneath the radar will only result in you bumping your head, on rather low things. Granted, it’s taken me a while to figure this one out, but – finally – I get it. Write for AllThingsQueer, or go to a CTL discussion evening (which, by the way, I have yet to attend. I have ‘lesbian inundation’ as an excuse to give to Lara). Don’t be over-zealous at first. There’s no need to work the room, or go balls-to-the-wall at Beulah. Start off small and meet a couple of people at a CTL event. Get their contact details. Then, meet one-on-one for coffee, a beer, or shark cage diving. Whatever you’re into, really. Social media is also great for creating a dialogue to get things started – just don’t use it arbitrarily. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if you send someone a friend request, introduce yourself and say something interesting or mildly amusing. A ‘bbm me bby’ usually isn’t part of the Forging Meaningful Connections 101 syllabus.
When we come out as gay, we say that it is a deeply personal experience. And it is. I think everybody’s story is unique. But we can also relate to almost everyone else’s coming out story in some way or another. We might have experienced similar reactions by parents or friends. Or we may relate to that initial fear before we let those difficult words escape our mouths: “I am gay.”
Fearing the “I am gay”
I think most of us have had (and maybe still have) this immense fear of saying the words “I am gay” to someone who is important to us when we can’t predict their response. It is this crushing fear of complete rejection. Maybe we fear abuse, physical or verbal. Or maybe we fear we will lose them. We fear they will take it badly, and suddenly our whole world will cave in.
How much of that fear is the fear of their reaction, and how much is the fear we have of ourselves?
I have dated a lot. Not commercial pilot a lot, but for me, it feels like a lot. I started dating when I was 19 years old, probably a bit later than most, when I fell head over heels in love with someone who was totally wrong for me. This happens to everyone, I’m sure, and just like everyone, I got my heart broken and thought it was the end of the world (spoiler alert: it wasn’t!). What happened immediately afterwards though set the tone for a lot of the relationships that followed. I began a quest to ease that terrible heart break by looking for someone new to fill the void. Of course, as we all know, this strategy doesn’t work and I soon realised that you just have to get over heartbreak in your own time.
Since then I have had on average 1.5 relationships a year, and I am now 26. I am on good terms with (almost) all of them. We speak. We keep in touch. Some were more serious than others. Some were good, some were shitty. I was in desperately in love with some, I was momentarily in love with others. But one thing is true for almost all of them. It was me who broke up with them.
If I had to describe my romantic inclinations, I would generally site William Thacker of Notting Hill and say “I’m a fairly level headed bloke, not often in and out of love…”, but the evidence says otherwise. Please note here that I am a fairly well-adjusted person, and I am pursued by very few ‘relationship issues’ demons. How did it come to be, that level headed, unromantic me, has so many ex-girlfriends? I am not a “playa”, and I am often single for long stretches of time, I don’t rush into relationships, I don’t (often) accidently keep one night stands (I never said I was a saint), and yet I have this huge suitcase of exes.
I wonder if everyone really understands the meaning behind LGBTI Pride Parades and Events? The role and purpose behind it? And it’s significance?
The dictionary defines a Gay Pride as a sense of dignity and satisfaction in connection with the public acknowledgement of one’s own homosexuality.
The purpose and the importance; is the positive stance against discrimination and violence toward lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people to promote their self-affirmation, equality
rights, increase their visibility as a social group, build community, and celebrate sexual diversity and gender variance. A specific day would be diarised within the community, and in most cases the media is invited to capture this.
Gay Pride culture has spread almost all over the world from big cities to small towns. In Africa, Uganda has zero tolerance towards the existence of LGBTI people. In fact, they want to do away with Gay people altogether. Despite this, the first Ugandan Gay Pride was organised in that country even though the harsh laws makes it suicide for one to partake in such events.
I remember the first Gay and Lesbian film festival I attended. That moment of seeing my first queer kiss on that screen was the first queer kiss I had ever seen - in real life or on the screen. In a world where the only embraces, kisses, sexual experiences, love, relationships and experiences we see are heteronormative, that first kiss will stay with me forever. I remember seeing it and thinking: what I feel, desire, experience, who I am, is shared by others and is ok, normal, beautiful.
And so, I cannot express the enormity of the feelings I have as a queer film I was privileged enough to be part of will make its big screen debut at the Out in Africa Gay and Lesbian Film Festival in October. The fact that I am able to live my truth, my experience, my Otherness in a country and a continent where people of other and othered genders, sexualities and sexual orientations are raped, mutilated and murdered on a daily basis is something I am grateful for and celebrate. The fact that I can celebrate my Otherness on a platform where others can see it and take hope in that celebration; that for some 15-year old confused or scared or hetero-flooded queer I can represent the possibility of an alternative life of my choice? HUGE. So proud. So grateful. So humbled
Memoirs of a Killarney Houseboy
Directed by Nadine Hutton
Starring Myer Taub and Brian Webber
Featuring Stanimir Stoykov, Kieron Jina, John Trengove and Matthew Krouse
Introducing Germaine de Larch
Recently, I’ve been contemplating life. Not just my life, but also the lives of others. Some things that I thought I had put to rest had to be dusted off and re-examined again, touched up with a little glazing of the wisdom that experience brings.
Like so many others, my upbringing was suburban - unremarkable by anyone’s standards. My parents loved me (still do) and did what they thought was best for me. The only feeling that pervaded was that I lived in a world that did not resonate with my emotional, intellectual and spiritual being. It was a narrow world, a world filled with demons and angels, sin and evil and hatred, but very little love and very little regard to the truth, the two things I hold in highest regard. To me it seemed an unjust world. Through painful processes of denial, self-deception and efforts to conform to the norms of society, I had to realize that I could not change who I was meant to be. Painful as the realization might have been, as strongly as I had felt like a disappointment to my parents, I could not walk away from my responsibility to LIVE. This did not happen instantaneously or indeed spontaneously. Rather it was a cascade of events that ran its course through many painful years of hiding and fearing the outcomes of my secret being uncovered. My big, shameful secret. In fact, I tried very hard to live the life others wanted for me, but something was always missing. I could not feel fulfilled.
When you’re harbouring a shameful secret, everything takes on ominous tones. Sometimes it feels like other people can see straight through your skull. In fact, the secret becomes the melodramatic centerpiece of your life. You cannot see the wood for the trees. You feel like you’re the only one and that you are so abnormal and shameful that nobody will love you once they find out your secret. Yet you cannot see the simple truth that you cannot live in darkness and not also live in despair.
You may fear some religious people, but you will find they are ignorant of God’s extent if they do not realize that we are all in God’s plan - and God does not make mistakes.