Growing up knowing you are gay has a way of forcing you to learn some interesting coping skills. One of the first things I remember having to cope with in relation to my queer sexuality is crushing on straight women. At my large high school with a student body of roughly 3,500 students, even back in 1998, I was one of few people who could be visually identified as queer, even before I ever contemplated the word "lesbian" or "bisexual" as a label for myself. What that really means is there were no other women around like me to help me learn about myself. Instead I was able to see and be seen by a couple of flamboyant young men, and a couple of male friends who were still in their adolescent closet but would come out soon enough.
During this developmental age when most kids are busy mooning over angsty teen romance, I was alone. My increasingly less frequent interactions with boys my age were fraught with disappointment, and my interest in women swelled like a prize winning fruit in summer...and yet, there was no one for me to even crush on, so I allowed myself to lust after the only women around me, who were, at least back then, 100% hetero.
Next year marks my 20 year anniversary of completing high school, and it has taken me a long time, but I've finally added heterosexuality to my list of romantic dealbreakers.
How can a lesbian date a straight woman? Honestly I'm probably not the one to answer that, but I assure you that it happens. I could wax poetic about the allure of her curiosity and the ego glory of giving someone truly proper sexual satisfaction for the first time, but that is not what I'm writing about today. The allure of curiosity is a trap, and at my age I no longer relate to women who spend their whole lives without getting to know their own bodies.
Furthermore, if you are butch like me, you must know by now that you are a rare breed. As I explained earlier, a lot of butches from my generation started out alone, not knowing if there was anyone else in the world like us. For the younger generations, I think it is a different kind of pain; they grow up knowing there exists a fierce subculture of bull dykes and drag queens and queer femmes and bears, terrifying and brilliantly bold as brass, but they must wait in isolation to access the majority of it.
You are that rare breed, that beacon to mankind which exposes the error of binary thinking where it relates to humanity. Just by existing you challenge the status quo, and you owe it to yourself and your community to withhold all that makes you a unicorn from the unappreciative.
Why's that?
Because you are magnificent. Somehow you managed to escape all of the "girlifying" and "pretty making." You play with the boys and win. You get dirty, and clean up handsomely. You walk with a sexy strut. You are not afraid to wear a tie and suspenders, even if they hang differently around your breasts. Still, underneath all that toughness, you are purely female; all softness and curves, and only the right woman can unlock the gates and penetrate your walls. (shameless entendre, I know)
Of course all or none of these may apply to you in particular, because butch is not defined by clothing, but by attitude and an unyielding lack of cooperation with being treated subhuman because one was born without a penis. Regardless of what butch is to you, merely being yourself is precisely what makes you so interesting, and although you may not have found any butch loving queers yet, trust me when I tell you there are loads of them out there who can't wait to meet you.
You know what is better than curiosity and beginner's sex? Meeting a woman who takes one look at you and knows that you are a certain type - HER type. She swoons at your big hands and muscular arms. She wears that outfit that makes you check her out all night. She works for YOUR attention, and not any
male gaze. She is thrilled to let you open her door, not because you're a butch and you act like a man, but because it is both polite and sexy to do things for someone.
So! Stop chasing straight women. Let the discovery of her fundamental heterosexuality turn your blood cold. Let the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Let your stomach churn, and your spidey senses send you running from that situation like it was a house afire. Let it repulse you in any manner necessary, as long as it saves you for those lovers who TRULY SEE YOU at first encounter. Do not let a person's fear of being outed dull your fabulous gay shine. We are the special ones. We glitter like gold wherever we go. Let them suffer. Let them wish. Let them fantasize. And when they can't take it anymore, let them come out and join our rainbow family. If they cannot do that much, they do not deserve you!
