First-World Lesbian Problems (Part II)

  • Everyone assuming you can fix their car.
  • Wanting to be in the Dykes on Bikes but having neither a motorbike or a motorbike licence.
  • Deciding whether to be on a float during Mardi Gras, where you won’t get to see all of the parade. Or to try to watch it from the crowd, where you won’t get to see all of the parade.
  • If you are butch; being told you look like a man.
  • If you are a femme; being told that you don’t look like a lesbian.
  •  Other women thinking you actually want to sneak a peek at their disgustingly sweaty body in the gym change rooms.
  • Having your mother still trying to set you up with eligible male bachelors, believing that it just takes ‘the right man to come along’.
  • Pretending that you haven’t looked up the ‘Interested In’ info on Facebook of all your female co-workers.

  • Being told you are too pretty to be a lesbian by someone who is too stupid to see that those two points are not linked.
  • Trying to find a roommate you are not attracted to.
  • Guests suddenly becoming uncomfortable after seeing a turkey baster in your kitchen drawer.
  • Being informed that your sexuality “is just not natural” by a woman who had a C-section for her IVF child.
  • Listening to your friends plan their weddings.
  • The possibility of your partner having the same first name as you.
  • Having to exert absolute self-control maintaining eye-contact when in conversation with a cleavage-bearing woman.
  • Not being able to grow your fingernails long.

What People Think Lesbians Do

What My Friends Think I Do:

I spend my nights making-out with other women in nightclubs, getting the attention of all the men in the room. When a guy finally approaches my group of friends, I fist-pump him and talk about sports.

What Men Think I Do:

I wake up next to my best friend who I accidentally slept with last night. Naturally, we are both in lingerie and can’t keep our hands off each other. Luckily, we don’t need our memory as an aide for recalling what happened because it’s all recorded on camera.
And to think it all started with a pillow fight.

What Religious Groups Think I Do:

After brainwashing troubled teens down a path of homosexuality, I gather people en masse in a brazen attempt to destroy the sanctity of marriage.
Before winding down for the night with an adult movie, I burn the bible.

What My Mum Thinks I Do:

I throw on my ripped flannelette shirt, after downing a beer and head down to the tattoo parlour to meet my bikie friends. They will try to convince me to shave my gorgeous hair off.

What Society Thinks I Do:

I read my feminist novels at the local organic vegan café in preparation for the bra-burning festival I will be attending later that day.

What I Think I Do:

I go about my day as a sophisticated, modern woman; in control of my life and my decisions.

What I Actually Do:

Write this blog.

First-World Lesbian Problems

  • Sharing a wardrobe.
  • Having to explain to straight people that neither of you is the ‘man’ in the relationship.
  • Having to decide whether to chop off your hair and be recognized as a lesbian, or keep your hair long and be assumed straight.
  • Listening to one of your family members awkwardly refer to your partner as your ‘friend’ or ‘roommate’.
  • Having to converse with a work colleague who keeps casually mentioning Ellen Degeneres as a way of trying to tactfully decipher your sexuality.
  • Being asked by acquaintances, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
  • Knowing that the L Word character you like the most is not the same character you are most like.
  • Getting distracted by porn every time you Google anything remotely lesbian related.
  • Never knowing if it is yet safe to drop the word ‘she’ in, after continually using the gender-neutral term “my partner.”

  • PMS:  Pre-Menstrual Synchronisation.
  • Trying to slink out of a room when the discussion topic suddenly becomes “How do lesbians have sex?”
  • When saying “my girlfriend and I”, wondering if the person listening understands you mean partner and not a ‘girl friend’.
  • Consistently finding yourself attracted to the only straight girl at the gay bar.
  • Having to again listen to a man ask the disgustingly inevitable; “Can I watch?”
  • Wearing your girlfriend’s wedgie-inclined pair of underwear by mistake.
  • Deciding what your kids will call each of their mums to avoid confusion.
  • Trying to participate in a conversation with your straight friends about “that hot guy with the dimples.”
  • Australia’s biggest first-world problem: Tony Abbott.

Butch, Please: A Letter To My Future Monster-In-Law

A letter to my future mother-in-law

Dear Gracious Saint of the western suburbs,

Just checking in to see how things are going re: accepting my existence.

What’s been happenin’? Haven’t heard from you in a while since that time you graciously ushered me out of your house. I apologise btw, for being forthcoming with my sexual orientation (soz), I didn’t realise that when you interrogated me the polite thing to do would have been to remain deeply closeted. It wont happen again, I promise; especially now that you have explained how easy it can be to brainwash people like your daughter into wanting to have sex with a person of the same gender. Thanks for the heads up.

I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye after you slammed the door, but I did get your text message and wanted to say a big thank you. I think you might have had autocorrect on ’cause I’m not sure what a ‘slitty botch’ is, but I appreciated the sentiment all the same.

I assumed you must have been busy lately. It must be a lot to deal with having your own daughter selfishly decide to move out in her twenties. Kids can be so ungrateful, can’t they? They never think about how it will affect the parent. I mean, since she abandoned you she has left you with no other choice but to drive all the way to the shops now when you need to find someone to criticise. I can’t imagine how it must feel having your child go off the rails like that; learning to drive, getting a job and moving in with a partner. It’s inconceivable when one considers that she was raised by someone as well-mannered and respected as yourself. It’s almost laughable. (Laughing being the sounds that one makes when they are happy – jks.)

But anyway, what have you been up to? The last time I saw you you were talking about all this religious stuff you are into. Btw have you been to church yet? I never recall ever seeing you there when I drive past, which is a shame because you seemed to be really keen on it. Oh also, I was going to look up that thing you told me from the bible. You know, the part that God wrote? The part about dykes being she-devils? Turns out though, I don’t own a copy of the ol’ good book. I’d borrow your copy of it, but I didn’t remember seeing it anywhere at your place that time I stayed over and committed a carnal sin with your daughter.

Anyway, take care of yourself.
In the mean time, try not to socialise with too many homosexuals in case you become one. (You know what they’re like – LOL.)

Love ya.

From your favourite ‘slotty butch’