As a straight woman, I have questions for lesbians.
I’m sure that lesbians get asked questions all the time that make them roll their eyes. But, I want to know stuff like, what it’s like to fall in love with a woman? Do lesbians joke about straight people? If lesbians are attracted to women, why is it that some of them look butch? And, what does a vagina taste like?
So, I sent out a call to the Mamamia community to answer some of our burning questions, and since then, my inbox has never had more emails in it. We had hundreds of women wanting to be our official, “lesbian correspondent”, as they put it.
If you’re a little bit nosy like me, then let me share with you some of the beautiful, hilarious and sometimes, incredibly sad, responses that we got. (FYI: Let me just reassure that my intention is pure. It is not to offend, just to learn.)
To begin, this was a piece that a woman wrote to me, anonymously.
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The first time I woke up next to a woman, it was amazing and terrifying. I literally tried to melt into the wall beside the bed. She reached over, grabbed my hand and said, “It’s OK.”
Of course, it was. For days afterwards, I walked around with this thrilling secret. I felt like a different person.
People ask what it feels like to come out; to realise you’re gay. For me, it was terrifying, exciting and pretty confusing. I was a late bloomer. I dated guys right up until the age of 26. By 28, I was out. Even though I found it hard to say the L word I was definitely a lesbian, albeit one with L plates.
There’s a lot you have to learn when you come out, not just the whole sleeping with women stuff which is an education in itself. To fall in love with a woman, I felt more like me.
Perhaps a more eloquent description, I heard from someone recently, was the first time they slept with a woman they realised they had been playing an instrument and using only one string. Now they were using all of them.
Do you remember what it feels like to fall in love the first time, to lose your virginity, to not be able to think of anything else? That’s exactly what it was like; I was experiencing a second adolescence.
It felt dangerous snogging women in bars, staying out until all hours and going into work wrecked. I had to figure out what my type was, while trying to figure out what type I was.
The first time I went out to a gay bar in London, a butch woman pinned me up against a wall and said, “What are you doing here? You’re straight. Get out.”