Ever since I started growing my hair out and moved away from my tomboy phase, I’ve been getting skeptical looks from lesbians who go, “I think you actually are straight, or bisexual, at the very least”.

Darling, just because I look feminine doesn’t mean I like men. By that dumb logic, aren’t you subscribing to the very gender assumptions and stereotypes that your sexuality is defying? I find it supremely offensive and downright discriminatory. Go take a hike. Oh, and bring your 18th century mindset with you.

Now, I’m no bra-burning feminist but it riles me to no end when femmes have to defend their sexuality with their own playmates. Maybe it stems from your own insecurities and previous experiences with other gay-acting straight girls, but honey, that chip on your shoulder? So last season. You need to learn and discern between the gay-experimenters from hornyville and those who love and embrace their femininity.

I like my dresses, my make-up, my heels and my women. Is that really so hard to believe? My Jimmy Choo-carrying self is thinking that you’re thinking way too much like a man. These morbid thoughts fall under the categories of lesbian-is-not-real-sex and women-can’t-possibly-be-good-leaders. And in my books? Minus 20,000 points.

Now, welcome to the 21st century. These labels and assumptions don’t quite apply anymore. There are girls who look like girls who look like girls. There are girls who look like boys who fall for girls who look like boys. There are girls who look like boys who like girls who turn into boys. There are girls who look like boys who like girls who look like girls. Confused enough yet? There’s beauty in the variety, baby, and don’t let anyone tell you anything different.

Do I really need to have shaved sides and a floppy mohawk before I’m initiated into the gay-ciety? Or wear baggy jeans and sit with my legs apart before I’m certified to be a lady-lover?

Oh, and for the record, it’s not about “blending in” with the straight crowd. This is just how I am and how I like myself to look. For those who say with a sneer, “it’s easier for her to climb the corporate ladder looking this way,” or “you’re succumbing to what men want”, I suggest you look in the dictionary under Bigot. There, that’s you right there. I have as little patience for liberal fundamentalists as I do for conservatives.

So if you cater to the above prejudice, I suggest you take your stick out of the mud and embrace the freedom to love. It’s not about how whom you love looks, but how you love that clinches the deal. Saying that, I really do have to admit that I have a soft spot for a pretty face. After all, it’s the perfect accessory to go with any fashion season. Alright, keep your panties from going into a twist, I merely jest.

I did have an ex who – literally – ran away from me because she thought I was a butch trying to pick her up. Ok, so I did once sport short-cropped hair and a penchant for t-shirts. But really, labels don’t do nothin’ in this time and place. Look beyond the obvious, and you might just surprise yourself with what you discover.

About Halfwild
An acid-tongued hedonist who occasionally trips on reality, she has weird habits like cussing in French, finishing off boxes of cherry tomatoes and regressing into a four year old when drunk.

Party with the drama queen at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .