There have been a few occasions when at a bar I have been talking to a woman and after the conversation she brushes by me with her breasts as she is walking away. As in full breast contact with me while there is plenty of room to maneuver. Since my cup size does not allow me this type of contact with another woman easily I am left wondering: is this common or intentional, like a ‘wink’? Am I missing an opportunity? Or is my imagination making a ‘boob’ of me?

It can be hard to know if a woman likes you.  My imagination can get me into serious trouble, so I’m a big fan of using your words to find out if she’s interested.  However, there are times when just aksing, “are you into me?” might kill the mood a bit.  In those instances, I’d use context clues.  Things to consider:

1.  Where are you when the alleged boobing occurs?  If you’re at a straight cowboy bar, it’s possible she’s just drunk and sloppy.  If you’re at a lesbian-only matchmaking dance party, she just might be coming on to you.

2.  Did you feel that “spark?”  Chances are, if you felt something, so did she.  This isn’t fool-proof, so be careful you don’t become the cocky, creep stalker at the bar, but if you’ve got a spark combined with unnecessary boobing, there’s a good chance she’s interested in you.

3.  As an athletically-built lady, I understand that you might not be able to reciprocate the maneuver without pressing your entire body against hers.  But is there some other body part you could use?  Long, flowing hair?  A little ba-dunky-dunk?  You might be able to determine her interest level with an equally unnecessary physical display.  Just be careful not to whip her in the eyes, or hip-check her.  You might want to practice at home or with friends.

Or, you could just use your words.  I mean, either way, really.

Once upon a time, I was dating a girl and she asked me, “do you switch?” And I replied, “no, I’m a righty.”  Thinking I don’t switch hit, or throw with my left hand. I don’t think that was the answer she was looking for. What exactly did she mean by “switch”?

Kunfoosed

Dear Kunfoosed,

What you are likely suffering from iss an over-used sports metaphor.  Lesbians are big fans of softball.  Many will use softball terminology when talking about sex.  For instance, tops can be referred to as “pitchers” while bottoms can be referred to as “catchers.”  Women who do both are considered “versatile.”  This is equally true for gay men.

What your girlfriend was probably asking was whether you consider yourself a bisexual.  Depending on the context, “switch-hitting” or “playing for the other team” are terms often used by lesbians for women who sleep with men, either in addition to sleeping with women (switch) or exclusively (other team).  Women playing for “our team” are lesbians.

Be careful, though.  If you are hitting on your softball coach, or any softball coach, and you tell her you’re a pitcher, you just might find yourself out on the mound – probably not the mound you were hoping for – getting line drives pounded at your head.

Thanks for the question, Carl.  Before I start, this is a good time for me to remind everyone that I’m not an expert, per se.  I am a lesbian, but I don’t have a degree in gender studies, and I’m not a doctor of psychology.  What I have to say comes from my own experience, or the experience of friends, when noted.

Let’s take a minute and flip the script.  Is there a difference, for you, between being married to a woman or a flamingly effeminate man?  Even someone who dresses in women’s clothes?  Someone with long hair and a soft body?

The plumbing is pretty important to me, and I’d wager it’s pretty important to you.  What we’re talking about here, though, more than sexuality, is gender norms.

I’ve said for a long time that it’s not the sleeping with people of the same sex that gets the gays into trouble, it’s the messing with gender norms.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been asked, “which one of you is the boy?”

For me, the answer has always been, “neither,” but the fact that I keep getting the question shows that there’s an expectation that a relationship will have a male-acting partner, and a female-acting partner.  Even if both partners are the same sex.

Let’s break down your question:

I’ve known and worked with a few [butch dykes], and I view them as another man.

Do you really?  Or do you view them as capable workers, equal to doing the same job a man would.  Do you work in a field that is traditionally dominated by male workers?  Women in those types of jobs, whether gay or straight often act in a manner similar to their male equivalents, either out of physical necessity, or out of social necessity.  Women doing construction work will develop the same muscles as men, and it wouldn’t make sense for a female construction worker to show up to a job site in a skirt.  Even long hair can be a safety concern.  Equally, it’s a heck of a lot easier for her to relate as “one of the guys” than to be seen as the wife or girlfriend or secretary, or anything secondary to her male counterparts.

Even in law school, women were generally and directly instructed to emulate men when interviewing for jobs, inasmuch as we should lower the pitch of our voices – but not too much – to appear stronger, more masculine.  (The lesbians, however, were instructed to become a bit more feminine.)

But, when it comes to the lesbians that love them….what’s the difference between a very masculine woman and a slightly effeminate man? Other than the obvious plumbing?

I think that you actually hit the nail on the head.  The obvious plumbing is the difference.  It makes all the difference.

You see, I want to be with a woman, physically.  Even if that’s with a strap-on and a pair of motorcycle boots.  When it gets down to brass tacks, it’s the plumbing that matters in the sexual part of the homosexual relationship.  In the emotional part of the relationship, it matters, too.  But even if the gentle, tender emotional side of a woman is something I might be able to find in a man, it wouldn’t be enough for me.  I would still want to be with a woman.  And a woman who sees herself as a woman.

Gender expression can get a little sticky, because there are so many variations that can occur.  What does it mean, exactly to be a woman?  What does it mean to act like a woman?   Does it mean having long hair?  Wearing dresses?  Cooking and cleaning?  Having children?  Does it mean tending a garden, and liking to knit.  Does it mean having large breasts and a big collection of shoes?

Some women like wearing suits, and some like wearing skirts.  Some like ties and some like scarves.  We are as different as any group of people o this planet.  Some women identify as “butch” because they feel most comfortable in their skin when they’re wearing work boots.  That makes them no less a woman than those who prefer the term “femme” and a case of lipstick.  It doesn’t change their gender – just their gender expression.

For example, I have short hair.  Sometimes extremely so.  I also play softball, wear fairly androgynous clothing, love a good pair of motorcycle boots, and enjoy knitting as well as gardening and cooking.  Most of my friends would say that my expression tends to the butch side, though I think I’m darn close to the middle.  My head is turned far more often by girls with short hair and jeans hanging on athletic builds, than women in skirts and heels.   But that’s not the case for everyone.  We all have different tastes – for ourselves and for the women we’re attracted to.

I think there’s something generational going on, as well.  The butch/femme dynamic seems much more common in older generations – that is to say older than me.  For a long time, there have been no real visible role models for gay people.  Books and movies and popular culture have been devoid of our presence, except in specific, formulaic ways.  So we had to figure out what it meant to be in homosexual relationships outside of any real community.  It makes sense that we would emulate our parents, our grandparents, and everyone we saw portrayed around us.  It makes sense that it would be more accepted for two women to be together in a familiar-looking situation.   If most relationships consist of one male partner and one female partner, it’s not a far leap to say that there are two definitions of a lesbian:  one male-acting, one female-acting.

It’s clear, however, that things have changed from a binary definition of what it is to be a lesbian to a nearly completely open definition.

I had it easy, really.  Yes, I grew up in Idaho, which was not the hotbed of lesbian community that you might expect, but I still had people like Martina Navratilova, and Ellen, and a few other women to look to.  And gay-straight alliances started popping up when I was in college.  In a safe environment, I was able to explore what a lesbian relationship might look like for me.  And I quickly discovered that it wasn’t a butch/femme dynamic that interested me most.  My definition was softer, more fluid, as were the definitions of many of the women around me.

And now, the youngest generation of queer kids not only explores what it is to be gay or lesbian, they also explore what it is to identify as a man or woman, or as both or neither.  Each day.

Again, this is my experience.  The butch/femme dynamic is so cliché, and such a part of the psyche of the lesbian community that some people have careers based on it.  It’s a handy shorthand, and a punchline, but in the end, a woman gets to define herself in whatever way she likes.  And no matter what she wears or how she acts, the expression of her gender makes her no less a woman.  At least, in my eyes.

Curious George,

This is a frequently asked question, for sure.  And the answer may require some people to go look at kittens instead.

My general rule in answering these questions is to ask the person asking the question to flip the script.  That is to say, reverse the question and ask it of yourself.  So, let’s try that here.  I’m assuming that you’re a straight woman, or that you prefer sex with a man.  That said:

If straight women like penetration with a penis, why don’t they like penetration by a dildo – from a woman?

As you’ve identified, there is a difference between the two.  Your preference is for a penis.  My preference is for a dildo.  And for a woman.  That’s all.  It’s not that I don’t like penetration.  It’s that I like sex with a  woman, and everything that comes with it.

This came from a comment on the what is sex? post.  I think it merits its own topic.

Again, if you can’t handle it, please look away now.

The short answer: I’m a lawyer, so I like tests.  I use this “two part test” to determine whether something is sex:

First:  Based on what you’re doing, is it possible for one of the parties to come?

Second:  Is it the intention of the parties involved for someone to come?

If the answer is “yes” to both, then it’s sex.  Other than that, I’m not sure.

So, is breast play sex?  It depends.

The long answer:

I was considering this question as I headed out on a bike ride this afternoon.  I immediately thought of the time a couple of years ago when I was body surfing in Hawaii.  I saw a hornet drowning out in the water.  So, I scooped it up and brought it back to shore.  On my return to the ocean, one of his brothers, clearly unaware of my recent heroism, swam into my bikini and stung my nipple.  Uncool.

Now I’ve been known to manifest some freaky shit.  And I wondered if it was folly to be thinking about the bees.  But I quickly dismissed any concern and got on with my ride and deeper consideration of the breast play issue.

But Oregon bugs have pride.  Not to be outdone, 1/4 mile from my destination, a flying ant flew into my bra and bit me.  Repeatedly.  He bit my nipple.  He bit my areola.  He bit my breast.

(Now, I know what some of you are thinking.  “Wait!  Maybe it will swell!”  Very funny.  It hurts like hell.)

So, let me say this:  are breasts sensitive enough to have sex with them?  Y-E-S.  The icepack on mine is proof.

Like the “what is sex?” question, though, I’m not sure it’s so straight forward.

Is breast play (fondling, both digitally – that’s hands, people – and orally), by itself, sex?  I think it can be.  Does it matter if it’s clothed or naked?  As Tribe of One so eloquently stated, “If someone comes, it’s sex.  I don’t care how many clothes there are.”  I agree.  And, in my experience, breast play can lead to orgasm.  As can tribbing.

But what if nobody comes?  What if it’s not the intention at all?  It’s certainly sexual.  Foreplay is sexual.  Kissing can be sexual.

I agree with Amanda that orgasm isn’t the magic bullet that will answer the question.  Any of my girlfriends can tell you (and there aren’t that many, so be cool), I’m an endurance sport.  So if I sit on a woman’s face for an hour and don’t get there, it doesn’t mean it’s not sex.

More and more, I’m thinking the answer to these questions really does depend on intention and personal view.  For me, digital sex is sex.  For some of my straight friends, it’s not.  For other of my straight friends, it is.

The takeaway for me is that it’s really important to talk about these things.  Maybe not on a blog that your mom reads, but certainly with a potential partner, a current partner, and with yourself.  Thanks for the questions!  Keep them coming!  (Yeah, I totally said that.)

WARNING:  This post contains explicit language.  If you don’t want to think about me in compromising situations, please go look at pictures of kittens.

Questions about sex are the ones asked most often.  They’re also the questions that don’t get asked.  They linger under the surface in the too-long silence after I tell people I’m willing to answer any questions they have about the gayness.  It’s kind of like in elementary school when we all wanted to ask, “how does an astronaut pee if there’s no gravity?”  Nobody wanted to be the one to put their hand up, but we were all thinking it.

Just last night I was asked, “when does it become sex?”  My answer then was, “don’t worry, honey, we’re not there yet.”   Still, it’s a good question.

Like in the heterosexual world, the answer to this question depends on the person.  Just ask Bill “is” Clinton.  Here’s the answer for me:  Penetration=sex.  Also, oral sex=sex.  Also, direct clitoral stimulation=sex.  Let’s break that down.

Penetration

Penetration with tongue, fingers or toy (dildo, etc) is pretty clearly sex in my book.  (Don’t worry, I know there are all sorts of questions out there about this topic.  I’ll explore this more on its own.)

Oral sex

If your mouth is on my clit, or your tongue is in me, it’s sex.

Direct clitoral stimulation

If your hand, mouth, or anything else is on my clit without something other than a safety material in between, it’s sex.

That’s what it is for me.  Believe me, honey it leaves lots of room for spirited disagreement.  For instance, does orgasm=sex?  Damn good question.  What do you all think?

Also, I want to be sure to say that I don’t want anyone using this post to argue with their significant other that what they did wasn’t cheating.  Cheating and sex are two totally different, if related, things.  One of my friends, when defining sex asked the question, “if your husband was doing that, would you consider it sex?”  Careful there.  If my husband was kissing another person, I’d consider it cheating.  I wouldn’t consider it sex.  Also, if my husband was kissing me, I’d wonder what the hell kind of messed up dream I was having.

A few years ago a local paper asked me to write a piece discussing the status of Domestic Partnership legislation in Oregon.  I was super excited by the opportunity.

I’d been working in the field of GLBT politics for a few years through some really tough times.  And I felt like I had a voice – something interesting to say.  I’d been writing on the topic for a political blog, discussing the ins and outs of what was going on with the legislature, the electorate, and the community.  And I’d been asking questions.

Ah, the questions.

It seems that people don’t always like it when you ask questions.  But I’m rather inquisitive.  And sometimes sarcastic.  In truth, I think the paper wanted me to write a piece, because I’d stirred up some stuff with my questions about the importance of language.

What they got instead was a discussion about the importance of humanity.

GLBT people have great love and compassion in our lives, regardless of how you label it. We would have to in order to keep our relationships intact through things like constitutional amendments and second-class citizenship. When we share that love we truly touch the hearts of others, because we share with them something fundamental—our humanity.

So here’s my question:  How do we move forward, in a context where the lives of GLBTQ people are considered political and language around those lives is measured, weighed and analyzed to such a great extent?  Is it more important that we consider our words carefully, or that we share our lives fully?  Or can we do both and remain authentic?

Reason I ask….no matter how much I try to be nice, I just view other women as enemies that must be dominated, belittled and outdone in all circumstances.  And I never put anything past other women when it comes to my husband.  Do gay women have to deal with competition from men?  So curious if this is even an issue, or if by definition gay women are completely immune to their charms.

With most questions about gay relationships, I find myself answering that the experience is much the same as straight relationships.  Yes, we bicker about money.  Yes, we like to hold each other and watch tv.  Yes, we get nervous when we meet the in-laws.  But this question has had me thinking for a couple of weeks about how different the experience of being a woman dating women is.

NOTE: As always, I’m answering this question from my personal perspective.  I’m not speaking for all of the gays – just one of the gays.  And this is something I’ve had experience with lately.

Dating. First of all, it seems to be a common issue for women who are dating women to be unclear whether and who they are actually dating.  Is a coffee date a date date, or just coffee? If you’re not kissing, but want to be, is that a date?  What if you haven’t communicated that desire to the other person?  Date?  For two single women to go out to coffee, or even dinner and a movie, isn’t necessarily a date.  For two single lesbians, however, it can be unclear.  Seriously unclear.

Maybe it’s the same for straight people, I’m not sure.  But I’m learning that, in order to make sure everyone is on the same page, it’s a good idea to be very clear up front about whether you are on a date, or hanging out as friends.

Men. As for men as competition, the women that I date or am interested in dating are lesbians.  Which means that, by and large, they aren’t attracted to men.  So, when it comes to seeing men as competition, no, I don’t see them that way.

However…

Competition. And this is where it gets interesting – I can see a lesbian as either a potential date, or as potential competition.  The same woman.  Which brings me back to the issue of knowing whether you are dating someone.  Because, if you are interacting with a woman based on an assumption that she’s a potential date, and it turns out she’s actually competition, it can seriously change the dynamic.  A woman can be one moment someone I might be on a date with, and the next moment someone who is dating someone I’d like to be dating.  It’s even possible that she can be both – at the same time.  Which makes my head and heart explode a little.

For example:  Recently, I found myself in separate, undefined dating-type situations with a couple of fantastic women.  We’d meet for coffee, or bike to pie, or just hang out and watch tv.  A couple of times a week.  I liked them both, found them attractive, and enjoyed spending time with each of them.  They knew that I was spending time with other women, and I knew the same about them.  I saw each of them as potential dates, and interacted with them as though I might like to date them.  But, as we started to define what it was we were doing (whether it was actually dating), we discovered that the three of us were, in fact, dating each other.  Yikes.  Unexpected.  Very quickly, I found that my interactions and feelings about these lovely women shifted and twisted.  I saw one of them as a date and one of them as competition.

And yes, I realize that seeing women as either quarry or competition is seriously limiting, but I think it’s something interesting to consider, nonetheless.  Especially given my reaction.  Yes, it’s time for me to examine the way I view women.  But it also illustrates a dynamic that I hadn’t noticed before.

And I think it’s very different from straight relationships.

So the short answer is, no, I don’t see men as competition.  I kind of think that would be easier.  Right now I feel like every coffee is a scene out of James Bond where I’m trying to figure out whether the beautiful woman across the table from me is a foreign agent about to trade my secrets for a chance at a new life.

Ah, softball.  The great lesbian cliché, stereotype, and cultural experience.

Not all lesbians play softball.  Not all lesbians like softball.  But most lesbians have either played, watched from the stands, or been enticed to keep score for their girlfriend’s team.  Whether it’s cliché or not, softball is where a lot of lesbians find community.  It’s where I looked when I was feeling isolated, and where I’ve found an amazing family and support system.

Portland has a gay league.  55 teams of queers playing their hearts out every weekend for girls in bikinis and bears with travel trailers.  But even outside the gay leagues, softball plays an important part in lesbian culture.

It’s true that softball isn’t the only sport out there.  But it (aside from maybe rugby) holds the top spot as sports associated with lesbians.  Why is that?

Here’s what I think.  Boys like baseball.  It’s the great American pastime, after all.  They play it growing up, they watch it after they’re too old to play it.  It’s part of their psyche.  It’s part of the American psyche.  Until pretty recently, girls weren’t included in that culture.  The first opportunity we had to play something that looked like baseball was in Junior High or High School, when we signed up in droves for the softball team, eschewing the gender norms that pigeonholed many of us as “freaks” and “she-men,” to put on socks and stirrups like the boys.  No briefs like volleyball, or skirts like field hockey.

When you line up the traditional Title 9 sports, softball and baseball are the most similar team sports for men and women.  Through college, softball allows women to compete in a sport that is as understood and important to our society as baseball.   And it’s empowering to know that you can compete physically with top athletes of any gender.

Outside of the women’s studies, gender role stuff, in the recreational arena, softball is fun, and it’s inclusive.

While it requires a certain level of hand-eye coordination, and certainly rewards those who are physically fit, softball accommodates all sizes and shapes of players.  Whether you’re a super-fit sporty dyke, or a fluffier lady, there’s a place for you on the field.  There aren’t a lot of sports that have room for 250 pound women as starting athletes.

Softball is a team sport.  It’s a place where people can come together to play, to compete, and to socialize.  Unlike say basketball or volleyball, a lot of socializing happens DURING the game of softball.  Most of the team is in the dugout together for extended periods of time each inning while the team is batting.  That provides for great camaraderie around the game, as well as time to chat about what people did over the weekend, and how cute the shortstop on the other team is.

So there you have it.  Softball allows us to participate, to compete, and to socialize meaningfully in the context of athletics.  It allows for exhibitionists to perform for their ladies and for voyeurs to watch women of all physicalities giving their best.

And it allows us to dress up in uniforms.  Uniforms.  Let’s be honest.  That’s what it’s really all about.

FOR THE GAYS

Softball is so much a part of lesbian culture, that “softball lesbian” is a known shorthand for a certain type of lesbian.  It describes much more than the fact that she plays softball.  Are you an aspiring softball lesbian?  Here are some things to consider:

Dating team members – If you are going to play softball in order to find a girlfriend, think carefully.  I have a rule that I don’t play on the same team as someone I’m dating.  That also means I don’t date someone on my team.  I learned that the hard way after dating a teammate on my rugby team.  When we broke up I lost my girlfriend, and my team.

Softball girlfriend – If your girlfriend isn’t a softball player, she may or may not be interested in watching your games.  Find out up front.  If she doesn’t know the difference between practice and scrimmage, it’s likely she’s not going to understand why you want her to come to your games.  It’s best to manage your expectations early, or it’s going to be a rough season.

Drama free team – Many softball teams will advertise themselves as “drama free.”  Don’t’ be fooled!  This is the first clue that there have been many drama-filled incidents occurring on the team.  Likely, half of the team has dated each other and the other half is new players (read: “fresh meat”).  If the team has a new coach, and last year’s coach is now just a player on the team, or a player on another team, the team is not drama free.

Tokens – Not all softball players are gay.  Even in the gay leagues, we have straight players sprinkled in.  Whether they’re looking for a cultural experience, or playing with their lesbian sister, it’s important not to assume that they’re lesbians.  Because things that would indicate lesbianism in the outside world (like ass grabbing) don’t necessarily work the same on the field, it’s always safest to ask.

Thanks for the question Heather!

There is a simple answer:  fashion.  And safety.  Perhaps you ‘ve noticed the lack of fashion savvy many of my lesbian sisters possess.  It’s like the lesbian gene is completely lacking fashion sense.  As though we collectively donated it to our homosexual brothers, and kept the home run derby genes for ourselves.

Why do we have gay boyfriends?  We have to keep our gayboys close to us so that we’re not gunned down in the street for our poor fashion choices.  It’s really that simple.

Why don’t we get married?  Believe me, honey, I’ve thought about this.  I LOVE my gayboy Jeffrey.  I could probably live the rest of my life with him.  Except that I don’t want to do the nasty with him.  Not even a teeny little bit.  (Jeffrey, I’m not saying you have a teeny little bit, so don’t come flying at me with that queeny rage of yours.)  I want to go shopping with him and talk horrible trash about people when I know I shouldn’t.  I don’t want to go to sleep next to him and wake up in his arms.

So, if I should ever be in the hospital and need someone to make a decision, or hold my hand as I go into surgery, I want it to be my partner – the woman I do sleep next to every night, and wake up with.  And I want the government, and my community, to acknowledge that my relationship with the woman I choose to spend my life with is every bit as valid, important, and worthy of protection, as anybody else’s.

Fabulous question, darling.