the fabulous life of a queer femme in action
Why do we still use the word “sexuality” as a reference to what kind of people get our mojo going? I don’t know about you, but when I see or meet somebody I fancy, I don’t exclusively get high on the idea of a potential physical encounter. “I wanna kiss her*, I wanna touch her* all over, I wanna fuck her*” is not the only thing that runs around my head like grand prix race. I get intrigued, yes. I desire, yes. But more often than not I find myself not wanting to hook up because the thought of it is just too much. Too overwhelming. Instead, I swoon. I sit and suck in everything that she* says and does and I just want to be her audience. To me, this is what (currently) defines me as lesbian with a little pinch of queer. I think boys* & Co. can be cute, funny and smart, and their cuteness can even suck me into the idea of “making-out-a-little”. But it’s the being a fan of people who identify as girls* that makes me the dyke I am. Kissing and fucking is easy. I can do that left and right and up and down. It’s the feeling of connecting in that particular way that shows you the direction of whichever of the multiple gender identities feels fitting for you: the compatibility. Like “this is a person I can imagine holding hands with”. Regardless if this handholding image is a fantasy of the long term-kind or only in the taxi on the way to the one-night stand. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know that using the handholding metaphor makes me sound like such a lesbian cliché that I seem more out-dated than afterellen.com.
And I know many of you are into fucking only. And you all probably threw up a little just now. But I’m not tossing the sex-thing out the window. Hell no. Sexual compatibility is essential. If it won’t work out and the rhythm just isn’t there no matter how groovy you get, the odds that you’ll get into a perfect mambo are pretty low. You can’t force it, really.
So. I was thinking that we could maybe start calling ourselves “compatible” instead? Like pan-compatible, queer-compatible, hetero-compatible and so on.
What do you think? Too unsexy?
Denice doesn’t read theory. So if there are already hundred books on the topic and this whole column is dustier than monarchy, she apologises. She also promises that she will get back to writing funny columns again. Soon.