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“Those who have suffered and do suffer should be more sensitive to the suffering of others”.

This is just a quote that I read today somewhere and it kind of stuck in my head. And I’m not sure why, but it brings to mind something kind of interesting and disturbing to me that I feel like sharing. I’m one of few “out” people at my job, and I’m a cocktail waitress (or grandette, if you will, in MGM-speak). Grandettes, with some exceptions, are generally attractive women, hair and make up done, who look good in a sparkly dress. The best ones have the smile and the people skills to rake in the dollars as they sling drinks on the casino floor in shiny black high-heels. Most of these girls come in daily to share war-stories of their dating dilemmas- some are complaining about that cheating loser, some are showing off engagement rings. Everyone is talking about, looking at, or dealing with a man.

I am a young, sexy, bright eyed-and-smiled woman. I have thick blond hair and big brown eyes and my body is cornbread-fed curvaceous. Sometimes I think I could be described more as ’sexy’ rather than ‘beautiful’ (at times interchangeable); nevertheless, I’ve always seemed to face an initial discomfort directed at me from other women & when their male objects of desire were around. When these women lets their guards down, as do I, they become absolutely shocked that my significant other is a strong Detroit-bred black woman, who is a welder for a living (and also briefly worked in an oil shop)…It’s completely impossible for me to insert myself into a world where I don’t just see another relationship where we bicker over who did the dishes last, what are we eating tonight, and who’s going to return the movies. But based on the varied reactions that I receive from people, I’ve concluded that what these women are trying to say is that by being in this relationship, I’ve actually given up my feminine power instead of strengthening it. Consider the fact that I’ve heard multiple variations of this idea, from co-workers bold or stupid enough to vocalize it.

“Well, is she at least a girly-girl? Why would you be with a girl that dresses like a boy? What is the point of being with a pretend man?”

“You should not be with someone ‘like that’ [a woman? a stud?]… You’re too smart and you’re too pretty.”

“Why would you call her your wife? Wouldn’t she be your husband? I know you guys [gays] play roles like that.”

“I know you have to miss dick.”

That’s got to be my favorite. I’m always at a loss when I hear comments like these, and it doesn’t just come from the women, either. Men frequently ask me if they can watch (I tell them they can’t handle the truth) or simply ask me why. A very young and cocky bar porter asked me why I was gay, I “didn’t seem like the type.” Both men and women seem to always want to assume that lesbians are going to be ugly, manly, or have something else rendering them physically inaccessible to red-blooded males. When they are faced with a highly desirable, funny, smart woman, they become disoriented.

I have to wonder if now its the women feeling uncomfortable because it makes them question their own feelings and fantasies, and that’s why they say things like “is she at least a girly girl?” There’s a definite bias, like if my girlfriend and I both looked like we both just skipped away from the Dallas cheerleaders auditions then it would be okay. We’d still be pandering to society’s ideal.

I don’t want to go so far out on a limb to say that all skeptical straight women are just a lesbian in hiding, but it is true that one of the most anti-gay skeptics at my job ended up texting me and telling me that she liked me! I’m quite sure it wasn’t me that she liked- she was curious and I was her friend, so she felt comfortable attempting to explore her fantasies with me. I’m not sure why she told me, since I am hopelessly devoted to my relationship and I wear a ring everyday, third finger, left-hand.

Wait, yes, I do know why she told me! Because to many straight people, this is just about sex.

It is true that if people knew that I liked girls, that I slept with girls, if it was so that I got-drunk-and-ate-pussy, but still had a man, then everyone would sleep easy! It’s when it crosses the line from “I’m curious” to “this is my life and we have a house and pets and we’re celebrating holidays and getting into fights and we know how we take each others coffee etc etc etc” that it starts to be not okay anymore. The problem, society vs. “LBGT”, is that they don’t want to see the things that humanize us. It’s almost like they prefer us to be characters on a tv show, what they see as an “oddity” like Ellen who they can look at and say, oh yeah, she’s gay, but I still like her.

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