why we love girlsĀ āā
claire: OKAY GALS so why do you love girls and how did you know you did??
sammi: i lov girls because they are soft and wonderful and strong and careful but also reckless and enchanting!! i canāt remember a specific moment where i realized i loved them, but i remember having crushes on mostly girls in elementary school and i was so much more worried about impressing girls than boys lmao
gwen: First of all, Iām so sorry this is so long! But I wanted to properly share my story with you all, so thatās why I wrote it down as it all happened.
Warning: At a certain point Iām recalling something that happened with me and the guy I was dating back then that gets pretty close to light sexual assault, in a way. I will highlight this part by beginning and ending it with *** so you can skip it if you need to.
My journey of self discovery started around the time I was 13 or 14 years old. Looking back at my childhood now, I realize there were signs of it before, but romantic relationships werenāt a part of my life before that. I always found girls pretty or beautiful, but I never gave it much thought. I thought I was just a straight girl that had no issues with admitting to aesthetically like other girls or women. That was it. Nothing important.
So like I said, I was 13 or 14 years old and romantic relationships started to become interesting to me. Enter a boy named Sander. We used to go to the same school and in little under a month we became best friends. I loved him, and even to this day I have no idea what sort of love it was. I stopped trying to give it a name. All I knew was that I loved him fiercely and that being with him gave me the best feeling in the world. I thought he was way out of my league; he was this cool guy, a couple of years older than me that never smiled while at school. He had only one friend, this really kind and sweet girl that immediately talked to me when I met her because we both loved Lord of the Rings. But Sander kept his distance. There used to be several girls with a crush on him, but besides the most basic pleasantries and a couple of jokes, he never showed any interest in anyone. Until one day. I was listening to my own music and he sat down besides me. He nodded to the computer and repeated the song title. It turned out that we both had the exact same taste in music. We talked during the whole break and the other students looked at us with surprise. You see, no one liked me. And like I said before, Sander never really put any effort in social conversations with anyone. Yet here he was, talking to me. Every girl with a crush on him turned to hate me when, after only half an hour, I made him laugh out loud.
We became best friends. He came to school more often just so that he could see me during ours breaks. On Thursdays we used to have Dutch together and the teacher eventually forbade us to sit together because he kept cracking up and getting laughter attacks when he looked at me during the lessons. I can still recall the death glares one of his female classmates gave me when this happened. I was the only one who could make him laugh like that and all the girls were jealous of me.
Our friendship started to turn into something more, but never did I once dared to believe that the feelings I had for him were mutual. Until the most clichĆ© thing happened to me. During one of our breaks he asked me to come with him. Sander used to smoke and the only place where you were allowed to do so was--here it comes--in the bike shed. I was so nervous I could have died at the spot. He kept stalling, and I tried to change the subject so many timesā¦ Me being the awkward penguin that I was (and still am) I pointed out this huge spider. But then he put out his cigarette and cupped my cheek. You can totally fill in the next thing Iām going to write: He kissed me. It was my first kiss. I freaked out, I had no idea what to do. Although I loved the feeling of his lips against mine, I could hear alarm bells ringing in my head. Red lights were flashing and it felt like I ignored all the signs saying āDANGER: DO NOT ENTER!ā and stepped over all the yellow warning tape. I figured it was just because it was my first kiss. Everything was so new, and I had been so nervous. Surely that was the only reason I felt that way.
After that we started dating. I was so happy. This was my first boyfriend! It was like I finally did something right. I loved him so much and we tried to spent as much time together as possible. The age difference did make me feel a bit stressed at times. He had so much more experience than I had. I had only kissed before, while he had done various sexual things before, and not all of them with girls he actually had a relationship with. But he assured me it was fine; heād wait until I was ready. We kissed regularly, but whenever we did Iād feel the same things as I did during our first kiss. I still told myself it was just because I was nervous: Sander had kissed a lot of girls before me and I had no idea if I was any good. I was so scared I did something wrong. Surely that was the only reason I never fully got into kissing him. Ā
Everything came crashing down after one month of dating him.
*** He had started asking for sex more often and every time he did I told him no. Instead he began to ask for other things--for me to take my shirt off, to just show a bra strap or something. I still told him no. Then one day we had a party at school. It was during the summer and school organized a BBQ. After that weād all go to the movies before going to a club they rented so we could have a private disco. Sander and I, including some other girls (one of them had a crush on him) were waiting outside until it was time to eat. Everyone was playing over at the swingset, but I was lying in the grass, looking at the sky. Sander came over and sat on top of me, trying to tease me and coax a reaction out of me. I simply smiled at him and continued looking at the sky. He asked me if I was comfortable even though he was sitting on me. I replied with yes. He then teasingly touched one of the buttons on my black blouse. Thinking he was still just teasing, I ignored him. But then he tried to open that button. I slapped his hand away and told him not to. We were at school, in public no less, and like he knew I still wasnāt ready for that sort of thing. he went for the button again. I catched his hand in mine and told him no. But he was stronger than me and he pulled his hand away. He kept going for that button and I was trying to get him off me. I tried to get him to stop, but he didnāt. I began to raise my voice to tell him off, hoping that someone would hear and come over. After all, our classmates were only a meter or three away from us. But he knew one of my weaknesses. He began to tickle me so that I would laugh, so that it seemed like we were fooling around. I began to panic. I started to cry and scream and finally my classmates came to look at what was wrong. Sander pulled back and claimed he had no idea what happened. I just kept crying, I couldnāt stop. I was so scared. One of his classmates, the girl with the crush on him, continued to ask me what was wrong as she hugged me. I donāt know why, but I made something up. I couldnāt tell her what really happened because I felt so stupid. They completely bought my lie and we went back into school because it was almost time for dinner. When they turned their backs on us, Sander told me that it was my fault. I shouldnāt have teased him by wearing that black blouse. ***
The rest of the evening is still a complete blur to me. All I can remember is him making a move to kiss the girl who tried to help me before right in front of me, me storming off, and us sitting on a fire escape together. We kissed. I tried to kiss him the best I could. After that he went home with me. Before we went to sleep, Sander in my bed and I in my momās, there was a conversation of him saying āyouāre not cheating on your partner when the other isnāt aware of itā and āwhoās the boss in this relationship?ā. My mom told me that if I didnāt put an end to it, she would. I didnāt tell her about the incident earlier that day. But I did end our relationship.
But I continued to be stupid. I have no idea how I could, but after all of that I still loved him. So I tried to stay friends with him. In the end, our friendship turned abusive and I told him I couldnāt continue on like that. That was the last time I even spoke to him.
I was 15 when I went on a summer camp with my friends. It was the biggest nerd fest I had ever been a part of. There was LARPing, RPGing, board- and card games and more of the same. The niece of one of my friends was there as well. I thought she was really cute and we hit it off right away. Her name was Eva. She was funny and spunky and incredible fun to hang out with.
During our first night there I couldnāt sleep. After tossing and turning for an hour or so I was done with it and went out of bed. I met Eva in the hall and she told me she couldnāt sleep too. We went outside, where her cousin and his girlfriend were and the four of us sat on this horrible old, damaged couch. It was too small to seat all of us, so I offered Eva to sit on my lap. We sat there in our pajamas, covered underneath blankets, looking at a sky filled with stars. It was a clear night, no lights anywhere near us to pollute the sky and there were falling stars everywhere. Somewhere during the night, Eva and I began to snuggle. We kept giggling and hugging each other, bumping noses against cheeks and necks, trying to get as close as possible. If I remember correctly, lips once ghosted over skin near ears and shoulders. We never actually kissed, but there was this sort of tension in the air that suggested that it could happen. Iāve never felt that giddy before. It felt delicious, being that near to someone, to have that much physical affection. And never did I feel scared. I felt excitement, a healthy sort of nervousness that kept me on edge because I wanted to know what would happen next. It felt like I imagined being with someone would feel like.
Once back home I started to think about myself and the attraction I felt towards her and everything started falling into place. Eventually I told my mom, crying while I did so because I was so afraid of her reaction, while I knew I had no reason to be. She held me and when I stopped crying she asked me if it was okay to tell me something. When I told her she could, she told me that she already knew I liked girls. We both laughed and I teased her for ruining my coming out. We discussed the labels I would feel most comfortable with identifying. I thought of calling myself bi, but at that point it was so rare for me to be attracted towards a guy in real life, that I labeled myself as a lesbian. Ā Ā
And now Iām almost 23. Iāve learned so much about myself and my personal identity. I no longer label myself. Not that I have anything against labels! I think labels can be a great way for someone to put a name to the feelings theyāre experiencing. But I no longer feel comfortable with labeling myself after noticing that my (sexual) orientation is fluid. The only thing I know for certain is that Iām not straight. Other than that, I believe I am somewhere on the asexual spectrum, maybe somewhere between gray-ace or demisexual. I can be aesthetically and sensually attracted to people of all genders. As for romantic attraction, thatās something I canāt pin down. I donāt know if I rather want to be in a relationship with a woman, man, or person of a different gender, because I can only fall in love with someone once I get to know them. Iāve learned to stop overanalyzing every little thing I feel for people and Iāve fully accepted myself and whatever sort of attraction I feel towards someone. And I have to say, Iām really fucking proud of the person I have become.
gabby: Something in me is still so in awe of girls, leftover from the days in middle school when I used to listen exclusively to pop punk anthems about pretty little time bombs written by boys I couldnāt even pretend to want. I would read books and mistake loving the girls in them with wanting to be them, because thatās all I was told was possible. I remember the first book I read with girls that were in love with each other, but I canāt remember my own reactionāI think I mightāve cried.
Iām still that twelve-year-old girl, listening enraptured to this girl talk about that boy and being giddier about her smile in my direction than his lips on my cheek. I fall in love with girls over the littlest things, like their art, their lips, their nail polish, the rings on their fingers, the cute shoes theyāre wearing even though they donāt match their outfit.
When I came out, more than one person told me that it was just friendliness between girls, that we all felt this way at one point or another, but I couldnāt understand how they could feel this way and not want to act on itāIām not sure Iāve ever been friends with a girl that I wasnāt just a little bit in love with, in one way or another. I canāt remember a time before I felt this way, but I do remember the moment I realized what it meant, and I definitely remember the two years I carried that around without telling a single soul, terrified to tell my ultra-Roman Catholic Spanish family and not having friends I trusted enough to confide in. Itās so crazy to think about that now, when my sexuality may as well be a flag I wear flying above my head for all to see. Labels are complicated and nearly impossible for me, as much as I wish I had one that fit me. I know I love girls; the way they smile and talk with their hands, the way I can feel so so safe and scared in the best way at the same time when Iām around them, the solidarity and pure simplicity of the things we share. A year or two ago, it was important to me that people knew who I was, because it helped me remember that what I felt was real, even if I had to justify every bit of it to everyone I came across. Loving girls is still a huge part of me, but Iām beginning to realize itās just for meāno one else has the right to this piece of me besides me.
Ā dom: why do i love girls? i want to say it's because they're so nice and bubbly and friendly and cute and smart and because they have nice hair and smell like flowers and all that other shit but really and truly? i just do. there's no reason. i just love em. i just love ya'll okay???? idk it's just natural for me. like i'm really lying here talking to myself like "dom why do you love girls??" and my self is just like "shit bruh idk??". idk. i love girls because i'm bi as hell that's why.
now this question....it's weird because i've been kissing girls all my life but i only realized that i wasn't straight last year. for some strange reason i can't explain i pushed all my experiences with other girls to the back of my mind and just forgot about it. so how did i know i love girls hmmmm.... like i said i had a few experiences in my early teen years but i never thought about it too hard like "oh shit i like this girl a lot" or anything like that. it was kissing and other stuff and being jealous when they talked about boys they liked but i never thought "wow i might be gay or bi". and then earlier this year there was this girl in one of my classes...she was amazing ughhhh smart and pretty as heck and always well dressed and super friendly geeeeeez and i developed a lil crush on her. like usually i would be like "oooooh that girl is so pretty" and leave it at that but this time like, i really wanted to kiss her and hold her hand a lot and date her and that's when i really realized "OH SHIT I'M GAY AS HELL" but then i realized that i was still lowkey in love with the boy i was in love with at the time so that turned into "OH SHIT I'M BI AS FUCK" aaaaand. yep. that's how i knew.
claire: the first experience of Not Straightness i ever had was sometime around the age of thirteen. i remember the girl so well. she was a yellow person, if that makes sense. i was hesitant but she was bold and clumsy and so very well-meaning. when she leaned into me one night beneath the neon lights of a rollerblading rink, taking my hand in hers and polishing my only ring against her blue tee-shirt with a look so fond it had me speechless, god i knew. i knew i wasnāt a lesbian because iād loved boys too, but i knew then that i loved girls just as hard. probably harder. it was a secret i buried well, but there was no mistaking my feelings. i remember how painful that was for me. i remember hearing this girl talk about boysā jawlines and bodies in the coming months, and turning my face away so she wouldnāt see the hurt broadcast so plainly there. i remember falling out of touch with her and forgetting most of what she said, but never how she made my heart race or my cheeks heat.
justā¦.trying to explain how much i love girls is like trying to explain outer space. itās too glorious, too large. how can i talk about everything? i canāt. i canāt tell you all the reasons women make me breathless, because the reasons are infinite. girls walk into a room and they illuminate. they draw together, they connect, they uplift. and sometimes girls walk into a room and they are sharp edge and shadow but i love this too, i love wild. i love the feral hearts pounding in our chests beneath creased fabric and breasts and jackets and zippers and pins that say I KNEEL FOR NO ONE. i love that we bleed in time with the cycles of the moon. i love our radical softness as weaponry. anyone who knows me knows iām furiously in love with the female psyche. how anyone canāt be is the question. our legacy is of queens and goddesses and suffragettes. we are a stunning phenomenon, individually and collectively. sometimes i think my queerness has nothing to do with physical attraction and everything to do with the sheer splendor of the female identity. itās absolutely mesmerizingĀ ā„
