Category: Lesbianism

Dismantling Heteronormative Ideas and Timelines in Queer Relationships

Seven and a half weeks into knowing my partner I texted my friends and asked them if they would disown me if I told my partner I loved them. “Jadey. You’re telling us you are so down bad for your partner that you couldn’t even wait two months to say ‘I love you?’” Well, um…yes. Thankfully my friends said they wouldn’t disown me and if this was something I wanted to do and say first then I should do it.

Now, listen. I like to think I’m a pretty rational person. I am not one to Google questions that will lead me down a rabbit hole. I’m not going to Google my symptoms and convince myself I have cancer. I’m not going to ask Google if I should quit my job or move across the country. However, clearly I was desperate because about two weeks prior to this text conversation I was Googling “when should you say I love you” because the fact that I was feeling this way towards my partner had me feeling completely irrational and insane. However, Google honestly didn’t have terrible advice. Google said to wait at least two months and to probably meet the parents and to not feel pressured to say it. And honestly that’s pretty logical advice. However, I of course completely ignored it.

I am the kind of person to trust my instincts. I trust my gut feeling and I feel confident in myself to make smart decisions. However, this situation made me feel insane. Everything about our relationship has been moving at the speed of light. My partner met almost all my friends on our second date. Three weeks in they met my parents. Less than two months in I said “I love you.” To say we were moving fast was an understatement. But then again, fast to who?

I had been basing these milestones off of preconceived societal norms for dating. And who makes these “rules?” Straight people. So that got me thinking. This whole system and rules around dating and love is based on heteronormative expectations and ideals. And I even told my friends in my flustered text chain “why worry about traditional relationship timelines” in order to convince myself I wasn’t crazy. So today we’re going to dive into these traditional relationship ideas and talk about how I’m dismantling them and re-learning in order to have the loveliest, most fulfilling life possible.

Chrononormative Timeline

Chrononormativity is the expectation that everyone follows the same timeline for life events. This suggests there’s a “right” time to get married, have kids, etc. But it can also be small events like how many dates you’re going on, labeling the relationship, planning future events, etc. This can create feelings of anxiety and stress from external and internal pressure. This kind of mindset can be toxic for all people, not just gay people. In fact, there is probably more pressure on straight couples to abide by this timeline because queer couples are already defying the status quo. They have more leeway to not abide by these rules because they’re already seen as doing the “wrong” thing (in the eyes of a patriarchal society).

That’s to say that I’ve been working on not allowing heternormative and societal norms to slide into my relationship and make me feel pressured to do certain things at certain times. And in fact, even though I have not been dating my partner for very long, and the speed at which we’re moving is a lot to grasp at once, I feel perfectly secure and at ease with it. “Jadey, why is that?” you might be wondering. That’s because my partner and I are on the same page. When I asked them to be my partner after three weeks, and when I said “I love you” seven weeks in, I felt with full confidence that I would be met with enthusiasm and reciprocated feelings. This timeline works for us, so it doesn’t matter if it’s “too fast” or if we’re doing the whole dating thing “wrong.” The basis of our relationship is already so queer based on our sexualities and genders that it feels ever queerer and right to go against these timelines and create our own rules.

And honestly, following a certain timeline has no logical sense. Why wait a certain amount of time to make things official or meet the parents? If it’s something important for you to do early on, or if it’s important for you to wait a long time, do it. Following these expectations and hitting these “milestones” really only benefits capitalist ideals. Of course the patriarchy and capitalism want you to get married and have kids to produce more workers and nuclear families because it benefits the system!

Gendered Behaviors and Expectations

I’m less reflecting on this topic and more including it for a conversation piece because me and my homies hate gender roles and gendered expectations. You will never catch me bending to oppressive patriarchal gender roles.

One thing I will never understand are same sex (or queer) couples falling into gendered roles based on who is more “masculine” or “feminine.” If I was basing my relationship of gendered expectations, then I would be sitting pretty as the fem(me) partner twiddling my thumbs. You best believe on our first date I asked for a second date, paid for dinner, and drove! Of course I buy my partner’s meals and bring them flowers and say “I love you” first! I know what I want and I’m going to get it! You will not catch me sitting around waiting for things to happen. If I want something I’m going to ask for it. Plus, breaking gender roles is hot.

That’s not to say that embracing gendered roles is always bad. As long as it’s a choice that makes all members of the party happy, then go for it. Having a traditional gendered relationship could be really affirming for a T4T couple. Plus, some people just like their traditional gender roles! As long as it’s not falling into scary tradwife Republican submission where boxing people in is used to control them, do whatever gendered things you want!

Creating New Rules

The fabulous thing about being queer is that you’re already going against the “norm” so there’s freedom to continue to defy expectations. And anyone who thinks otherwise is just trying to uphold heternormative ideals. It’s giving gay Republicans. Gross.

When I asked my partner to be my partner I figured we could just make that day our anniversary because I assumed that’s just what people did. But then I realized I didn’t like it. What about all the time we spent before, did that just not count as time we’ve been dating? Plus, the day just didn’t sit right with me. It was in May and a Thursday and it just didn’t feel right so I asked my partner if we could just make our first date our anniversary and they loved that idea. And I know plenty of people make their first date their anniversary but that’s all to say I was originally trying to do what I thought was typical and guess what, I didn’t feel like it fit me and my relationship, so we changed it. And it made me a lot happier.

I see the “rules” and conventions around romantic relationships as something that’s merely a suggestion. The system that has set up these expectations isn’t built for queer people, so why should we follow it? Anyways. Was this blog post mostly an excuse to talk about my partner? Maybe. But did it allow me to reflect on queer relationships and the heteronormative institutions that try to regulate them? Yes.

Being Disappointed in Lesbianism (and being okay with that)

Jadey’s writing about being gay again. Raise your hand if you’re shocked.

For the second time in undergrad I am taking a poetry class. The first time I took this class I was a freshman; nervous and mostly unfamiliar with the world of poetry. Being that I’ve currently gotten all the credits I need for my major as a junior (besides thesis classes I’ll take my senior year) I decided to retake poetry for fun. It’s been about a month and a half and I can confidently say I’ve had a lot of fun already and am excited to keep writing poems.

I can see the improvement in my poetry and have gotten into a productive writing process. My poems are whimsical, yet serious. There are good images and metaphors. It was recently pointed out to me that there were similar themes and rhythms of exploration I was doing in my poetry. And while this is good in one aspect, that I’m honing in on my “thing’ as a writer, and will have a thread throughout my end of semester portfolio, it also was frustrating for me to realize. And I’m not really that upset about my similar line breaks and typical silliness my poems have. I enjoy those things about my poetry. My frustrations come from a greater problem. Recently, almost all my poems have mentioned my sexuality, if not being explicitly about lesbianism.

And of course I’ve told myself that this is okay. Because it is. It’s cool. Queer representation is needed and I haven’t heard any other explicitly lesbian poems in class yet, though it’s definitely a possibility. I’m telling myself I’m in a lesbian renaissance. I’m coming to terms with things. But the issue is that I don’t want to.

It’s frustrating for me to be upset over my queerness. Because usually it is something I find so much joy in. It’s my favorite thing about myself. But recently I can’t help but feel sad about it. And granted, this is not all the time. Maybe a brief moment or thought in the middle of the week. I don’t wake up dressed in black (though I do wear black a lot – not the point) like a widow in mourning for the husband I’ll never have. But every once in a while the thought will pop into my brain and it’ll pass, or like this present moment, it will linger, and I’ll mull it over.

This grief I’m feeling for the life I won’t have is an ongoing process. As much as I surround myself with positive queerness and am in queer circles the issue of homophobia is a systemic issue. It’s embedded into our culture. And with this presidency it’s certainly not going anywhere.

I simply find it not fair. I don’t want to be sad. I don’t want my life to be harder because I’m gay. I want to live in a beautiful state of ignorance where I don’t know about the systemic oppression and homophobia and constant news of trans people dying. I don’t want to be distinctly aware of the fact that I can count the number of queer adults I know on less than ten fingers. How am I supposed to imagine a full beautiful life as a queer adult, as an asexual for that matter, when I can’t see it in my real life. The only asexual people I know are my age. Most of the queer people I know are 20 years old. How am I supposed to imagine in the future when the queer adults I know don’t surpass the age of 40? How am I supposed to see a fulfilling life as an asexual when I’ve never met as asexual adult? How am I supposed to believe that’s even a possibility?

I have thought that maybe the label lesbian isn’t for me, which is exactly what I predicted myself doing. I think my issue is that in an attempt to accept it, I’ve forgotten to hold onto the queerness and aceness I live with, which is equally, if not more, important to me than using the term lesbian. But I am a lesbian. I don’t have to scream it from the rooftops. If anything, I could end my lesbian acceptance renaissance and use the term queer, knowing that term encompasses my asexuality, lesbianism, gender, and unconventional relationship types. Which honestly, is what I might do. Going through the process of coming to terms with this label was necessary, but I also can use the label queer, and know that I am a lesbian. Because I am asexual, and because I am not straight, and because of all sorts of other things like my strong rooted feminist identity and relationship with gender I feel incredibly queer in my identity and my lifestyle. So, I am queer. But, if asked to expand what that means to me, part of that would be that I’m a lesbian and asexual.

Anyway, I am definitely going to write more poems about being gay. I just needed to rant. Thank god I have a blog.

Update: I did write another poem that was gay and it actually is one of the best poems I’ve written so clearly I have something going for me.

I’m Coming Out…Again

Jadey. You’re coming out? Haven’t you already done that? Didn’t you come out years ago and make being gay your whole personality? You made a blog about it and run your campus’s gay club and write and read and listen to and watch queer media. Doesn’t everyone in the world know you’re gay?!

Well…yeah.

But. Alas. I have adopted a new label that I thought I should share with you all (hence the reason I have a blog).

I’m a lesbian. And it feels weird to type that. It feels weird to see those words in reference to myself. I know this is probably shocking for you readers (it’s definitely not). But don’t worry. I’m definitely still asexual. That is not changing.

How did I come to this conclusion? I’ll tell you.

I kinda always knew.

Unfortunately I have come to the conclusion that I was maybe sorta possibly just ignoring this part of my identity. This label has been swimming around in the back of my mind for a while. I know I don’t like men, yet I haven’t been using the label lesbian. I thought I would possibly come around to the label eventually, but I was never actually putting the work in questioning if that was a label I wanted. I wasn’t questioning it because I simply didn’t want to have another sexuality crisis. It’s a lot of work to question your sexuality and I did not want to go through that journey again.

Besides the fact that I thought one day I might identify as a lesbian, I also felt very connected to the lesbian experience. Sometimes I would see people on TikTok talk about being an asexual lesbian, and I would feel very seen in those statements. Lesbians would talk about lesbian experiences and I would relate, but push it off as just a queer experience or a commonality because I also like women.

During the summer I came to the realization that all my friends, even the ones who are queer, still experienced attraction to men. And I thought to myself “I need to make more lesbian friends.” That’s kind of a gay (lesbian) thing to think…If I didn’t identify as a lesbian then why would I want lesbian friends? Probably because I found it relatable…

I made lesbian friends.

This school year I became friends with two lesbians and they converted me. All these republicans are worried about the gay agenda. Well look what happened when I befriended some lesbians!

No. What really happened is I simply talked to them about being lesbian. And low and behold it resonated with me. I would tell them things and they would look at me with a kind of “duh” look in their eyes because the things I would say to them were clearly lesbian experiences.

Plus, these two friends have a list of all the lesbians on our campus and when I heard about this I thought to myself “I should probably be on that list.” That’s a pretty gay thing to think.

It turns out talking to people with commonalities makes you realize things about yourself. Plus, they would remind me that it’s cool to be a lesbian and send me lesbian memes on Instagram so that was nice and made me feel better about accepting this label.

Heterosexual relationships disturb me.

Don’t take this the wrong way. I swear I’m a straight ally. My point is this: I don’t want it. I see straight couples out in public expressing PDA or holding hands or what have you, and I find it kinda…gross. It disappoints me. I see queer relationships and it makes my little gay heart flutter with hope and admiration.

I read the Lesbian Masterdoc.

Yeah.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve read the Lesbian Masterdoc before. But that was years ago and I read it out of curiosity and to see if those points related to what I was feeling as someone trying to figure out if they liked women along with men (which is what I felt at the time).

For about the past year I had put off reading it again. I put off reading it because I knew I would relate and I simply didn’t have time to question my sexuality again. I thought I was done with that. I spent years doing that and being out. I thought that period of my life was behind me. I was wrong.

Now, some parts of the Lesbian Masterdoc simply don’t apply to me. Mostly because I’m ace, but also because I used to like boys.

Here’s some key takeaways I took from reading the Lesbian Masterdoc that made me realize I should probably just use this label:

You can’t imagine a happy and fulfilling life with a man
You think it’s objectively true that every woman is more attractive than men
Lesbian or gay feels like the label for you but you still doubt yourself
You’re repulsed by the dynamics of male/female relationships
You dread the idea of a future with a man
You go through past memories to prove your attraction to men
You couldn’t imagine yourself in a long term relationship to a man
You really like a male celebrity (an unattainable man)
Having past attraction to men or being in a relationship with a man in the past doesn’t take away from your lesbian identity now

And this quote that really made me stop and think: “Lesbian doesn’t need to mean ‘only experiences attraction to women,’ it can mean ‘only feels comfortable, only prefers, and only prioritizes women & relationships with them.’” Once I read that I knew it was over for me.

I questioned why I wasn’t using the label lesbian.

Turns out there were a lot of reasons. The main one is that I was definitely (and still am unfortunately) struggling with some comphet stuff, and using the label lesbian really solidified the fact that I don’t like men and probably never will. As much as I thought I was over the whole wishing I liked boys thing so my life would be easier, I clearly was not.

I also like to be mysterious and not labeling my sexuality allowed me to be cool and mysterious. Now, I still have lots of love and appreciation for being unlabeled or just using the label queer, but it’s necessary for me to come to terms with the term lesbian in reference to myself. Plus Conan Gray doesn’t label his sexuality and now we don’t have that in common. Devastating.

The asexual thing also throws some complexities into the ring. One, because what I see on social media is a somewhat sexualized (in an empowering way) lesbian sexuality. I see gay people online talking about lesbian sex and enjoying it and being proud of it. That’s not something that resonates with me in the same way it does for others. And in a bad sexualized way, lesbians and queer women are often hyper and over sexualized in the media and viewed in a way for male pleasure. I’ve probably internalized that and subconsciously related that to lesbianism and therefore seen it as something I don’t experience/relate to as an asexual person. I had to separate these things and modify the lesbian definition to fit me, an asexual person.

Let’s get back into the comphet stuff. I thought I wasn’t really dealing with compulsory heterosexuality because I love being queer. I went around saying I didn’t like men and I wouldn’t want to date a man…but I was secretly (maybe even unconsciously) holding onto hope that I did like men.

This came to the forefront when I befriended a boy. This is a pretty normal thing, but I’ve pretty much had friends who were girls (or nonbinary) throughout my life. So, of course, I got into my head about this. I like this friend a lot. We have a lot in common. We both write. We’re both hilarious. We’re both normal and not weirdo freak college kids. Unfortunately in the back of my mind I was hoping that I would like him. And that’s a terrible thing to admit. Because I don’t like boys in that way. But the hope was still there.

It also didn’t help that my family members liked him. After I introduced this friend to my family (as one does when they make new friends) they had some choice things to say. “I wish you were straight so you could date him” and “do you still have a crush on him?”

It’s terrible to hear these things because I’ve thought about them myself. I don’t want my family, people’s whose opinions and judgment I care about, to reflect back to me my own insecurities. Of course I also want to like him! Of course I wish that part of me liked boys. It would be so easy. I would relate to my other queer and bisexual friends. I would relate to my straight friends. I would be normal!! Ughhh not normal but you know what I mean.

But alas. I don’t like boys. And I wouldn’t be happy marrying one. In fact, I’m haunted by Chappell Roan’s lyrics “you’re nothing more than his wife.” How a shiver runs up my spine!

Why I’m using the label lesbian and other thoughts:

I’m using the label lesbian because I want to be part of a community. I want to feel understood by people who don’t like men. I want to be on my friend’s lesbian list.

I’ve been making myself save lesbian memes to my Pinterest folder. My lesbian friends will send me lesbian TikToks or memes and it makes me feel seen and all warm and fuzzy when they do. I’ve been making comments about me being a lesbian to a small group of people. I’m working on it.

I made a presentation to tell my friends. This was good because I had to think about myself in conjunction with the label lesbian. I had to think about other people perceiving me this way. It also was something I could hang over their heads and be like “ooo super secret presentation I have to show you” so that made me feel better about it. At the time of writing this I have yet to show it to them, but I’m sure they will find it entertaining and funny and be happy for me. It definitely won’t come as a surprise.

I feel as though I am back into the life I had at 17. I’m almost 21, a junior in college, and I feel just like my confused junior year high school self. I’m watching YouTube videos about lesbians and finding comfort in that. I’m going on TikTok and searching up lesbian coming out videos. I’m looking at lesbian memes. I’m finding lesbian playlists on Spotify and singing along to songs about girls kissing girls.

I’m mourning the life I could have had. I know a life of heterosexuality and traditional relationships is not for me. But embracing this label solidifies that in a way I didn’t expect. And that’s hard to admit.

I am uncomfortable with this label now. But deep down I know that this is who I am. And later, if I realize labels never really were for me I can drop it. Because lesbian is just a word, and I’m a real person feeling real experiences and a word doesn’t have to define the complexity of things I’m experiencing. But I know that this journey of me realizing my internalized negative feelings was necessary. As proud as I am of my identity, I still can be prouder.

No label is going to fit me the way asexual does. The community I feel, the comfort I feel in that word and seeing the ace flag is indescribable. Maybe one day I’ll feel that about lesbianism, but the most important part of my identity is my asexuality. Because I’m not just a lesbian. I’m an asexual lesbian. The term ace will always come first.

I think I’m also having trouble because I feel like I have to give up the term queer. And I love being queer. It feels political. It feels broad and encompassing. It feels like a big fuck you to societal norms. So, let me remind myself: I don’t have to give up labels that work for me. I get to add labels. I can be a part of the ace community. The lesbian community. The queer community. I can be queer. I can be asexual. I can be lesbian. And I can be a queer asexual lesbian all at the same time.

I don’t want to call myself a lesbian if it doesn’t fit. But I also don’t want to not call myself a lesbian because of homophobia or comphet or some other reason because I’m ashamed. I don’t want to be ashamed of my queerness. I want to love it with every ounce of my soul.

I don’t have to go around screaming that I’m a lesbian. I don’t have to announce it. I don’t even have to post this blog, but you all know I will because I love to overshare on the internet, and this post was not only funny, but meaningful for me to write, so maybe it’ll be helpful to someone else.

Alright. It’s been about two months since I wrote all of the above. I’m happy to say I’m finding joy in identifying as a lesbian and it’s actually making me feel even more confident in my queerness. I’m sure this will be an ongoing process for me, and there will be more lesbian (and asexual) content to come.