LESBIAN WRITER WANTED

…Must be a…it’s not Voldermort, you can say it:  lesbian. First article I get the cojones to submit and this is my byline… ”Lesbian writer”.  What is it that other lesbians say:  “most women cannot say the word lesbian even when their mouths are full of one!” So, lesbian…yes, I cannot stop saying lesbian now.  You lesbian! Submit your lesbian article to blah!  It’s almost…accusatory, eh?  Lesbian: a foreign word from books and sleazy websites and not necessarily from my experiences. That’s what growing up in a hetero-normative, homophobic society does to a young woman with strong Sapphic tendencies. So for today, you’ll have to pardon me, my sexual orientation is Alex Vause. 

 After mulling over it for a minute, I have reconciled the jarring fact that my love for words and women do make me a lesbian writer by default. This is the part where I am supposed to regale you with titillating lesbian stories…which in my case are always more like cautionary tales.  Seriously DO NOT become a lesbian; because apparently that’s how sexuality works. You just choose one when you get bored or the other becomes inconvenient. I am sorry ignorance just makes my breasts ache…with rage. #somebodyTellIgnorantPeople.

 It’s not as glamorous as L word makes it out to be…okay before they started killing each other. Working odd hours at some highly paying, ethically dubious job; waking up between noon and three to work on your poetry/performance art, easily shaking off the effects of stylish drugs and tragically hip clubs; punctuating your intellectual throes with some good pot and explosive sex with an array of women. Oh how I wish! The struggle is real!  For starters, you never get hit on by those soft oversexed beautiful women whose hemlines are enough to send your imagination on a permanent hiatus, just men. Not even the effeminate ones, the sweaty, aggressive nut scratching unapologetic egomaniacs whose sole purpose is to screw resistance and possibly lesbianism out of you! No thank you, Mr. Man I’m going to ignore your hostility right now because it comes from a place of shame. They call it corrective rape in South Africa. In the event you get lucky, you are in West-lands at 3am, and she’s drank as a skank, dressed like she has a pole in her handbag, stranded and as straight as cooked spaghetti. Picture a sexual experience full of clashing teeth, jamming zippers, fumbling fingers and searching for sexual organs that have been in the same location since the beginning of time.

Straight girls go on dates; lesbians get hooked up on blind dates by their friends with exes of their high   school exes.  One thing I have picked from women movement is that all women are “sisters”, not necessarily friends.  we lesbians love our “sisters” and I use that term loosely because we almost always end up shagging our” bffs” and these “closer than my blood sister” individuals …but there’s always alcohol involved…key word alcohol…a lot of alcohol…and maybe weed (pick your poison).  It doesn’t really matter, you still end up at some weird incest creek without a paddle. Every time you meet your “sisters” the toxic oversharing, grossly familiar tones and Gossip are almost enough for you to go, ”OI TATTLE TITS!! Wait…is that Jameson? NEVER MIND!”

The Kenyan lesbian scene; an unceasing onslaught of dysfunction, you have to love it though. Women can make you ball to the walls crazy! Crazy for a love you never thought existed. A love if lost would rip the marrow from your bones and leave you hollow. But what do I know, I just became a  ” lesbian writer”. ..Craving a black forest cake… Possibly hooked into an IV and attached to my arm.