Gosh, I wish I could answer that question, but it’s just not that easy.

I’m a big gay, homosexual lesbian.  For real.  But I used to love to watch the show Queer as Folk.  Loved it.  I dug the story lines, and the characters…and the sex.  Which was interesting to me, because it was 99% hardcore guy-on-guy sex.  It wasn’t about the guy parts for me.  I really don’t like watching straight sex scenes in movies.  But I liked watching guys go at it on Queer as Folk.

I mentioned it to a couple of lesbian friends, and found that a lot of lesbians felt the same way.  After talking about it, we settled on the fact that we all really liked the freedom with which gay male sex was depicted.  There were no hang-ups.  No need for emotion or connection or anything, other than raw attraction.  And that was something different than our experience – certainly different than the way lesbians are depcited.  So we watched the show each week, eagerly anticipating the sex scenes.  Not because we wanted to be with men, but because we liked the idea of raw sex without attachment.  Which was the depiction, even if it wasn’t the reality.

Sexuality is a funny thing.  I heard at one point that gay male porn was more popular than straight porn for women in cultures where women aren’t treated as sexual equals.  The fact that both partners were treated as equals – strong partners – in the gay films was the fantasy that the women were wanting a part of.  Not the gay sex.

So I don’t know what it means that you find yourself aroused by the thought of gay sex.  It might mean that you’re gay.  It might mean that you’re bisexual, or bicurious.  Or it could mean that you are into the idea of pleasuring someone who you see as an equal.  Or sex without attachment.  Or even that you would enjoy being dominated.  I’m not a sex therapist, so I really can’t even hazard a guess here.

I don’t know your situation.  Don’t know if you’re married or if you have kids.  Don’t know if you’ve had sexual experiences with men or women in the past.  I do know that having new sexual feelings can be confusing and even frightening.  So let me be clear:  I’m not suggesting that you do anything like hire a prostitute or cheat on your wife or girlfriend to figure this out.  What I am saying is that it’s good that you’re recognizing attractions that you’re having.  Exploring them might bring up emotion, but that’s part of being human.

It might be worth talking with a therapist to see if you can understand why you’re having new feelings, or joining a group that addresses issues of sexuality.  I know I’m always amazed that other people share my experiences and questions.  Even if it doesn’t answer the question for me, it always makes me feel much less alone.

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.

It’s about Gay Pride parades.  I find them (okay, the three I’ve seen) rather…distasteful.  Now, I know a lot of gay people, and I like most of them, and I think they’re normal people and whatnot.  But I have to admit, when I see what’s on display in the Gay Pride parade, my visceral reaction is “what freaks.  If I had children, I wouldn’t want those people near them.”

I am a rational person so I grasp that the sorts of people who choose to put everything out there (I don’t mean the fact that they are gay, I mean really inappropriate costumes and vulgar pantomimes) in the middle of 4th Avenue in broad daylight don’t represent all homosexuals any more than, say, Joe Francis and his ilk represent heteros, but still.  It seems to me that if the goal of the gay community is to be accepted as mainstream, those parades are a really bad strategy.

What are your thoughts about this?

June is Pride month.  Happy Pride, everybody!

Right on cue, I received two frequently asked questions about Pride.

Here’s the short answer:

Every day is straight pride day.  Once a year we want to celebrate our entire community and its splendid history.  Well, some of us do.  Others of us want to hide away the people in assless chaps.

And here’s the long answer:

It seems to me that there are at least two things going on here.  First, the overtly sexual nature of the celebration, and second, the perceived agenda of the community.  Let’s take them one at a time.

Agenda

I know we seem pretty powerful, but there’s really no master plan here.  The community is incredibly diverse.  We have some national organizations, and some pretty great state ones, too.  None of them speaks for the entire community.   Not even for the majority, I’d say.  We have vastly differing views on what the desired end result is, and how we should get there.

Some people and organizations think we should “mainstream.”  That we should make sure that everyone knows we’re just like everyone else.  That our sexuality doesn’t define us, and that we’re more than who we love.

Others believe that sexuality is such a definitional piece of who we are as people that it makes us fundamentally different, and that the differences in our lives should be celebrated and made visible in every possible way.

Pretty much everybody else believes it’s a combination of these things.

Some people think we should use legislation, some think law suits.  Others think protests and picketing and direct action.  Still others think we should do nothing other than live our lives.

So when it comes to the strategy behind Pride celebrations, I’m not sure there is one.  They’re now commercial enterprises, run by for-profit companies.  But there is a history to them.  I’ll get to that in a minute.

Sexuality

When you have the reaction that you wouldn’t want your kids near the people in the parade, what is it that you’re reacting to?  I hear you saying that it’s not, necessarily the gayness.  So, how would you react if it was a parade of straight people wearing really inappropriate costumes and performing vulgar pantomimes in the middle of 4^th Ave?  In broad daylight or not.  Would you have the same reaction?  I have a sense that you would.

I think that’s important to note.  It’s not the gayness that’s troubling to you, it’s the behavior that you wouldn’t want your kids around.  It’s the overt sexual behavior (maybe its “deviant” nature?) that is uncomfortable.  Once we’re there, we can talk about that, and not about the fact that it’s gay.

Because for the people who object to the fact that it’s gay people in the streets, there’s not a lot I can say.  Here’s the thing.  I’ve said it before.  It’s not the leather daddies that make people most uncomfortable with the gay community.  It’s the gayness.  It’s the gender-bending, the girls wearing ties and the man-on-man kissing.  I don’t think that’s what you’re objecting to here, though.

I’ll tell you, I’ve been to some pride celebrations where I was shocked at the overt sexuality.  The assless chaps and banana-hammocks.  Usually it’s the SM or leather communities that have made me most uneasy.  The GLBT community is already considered abnormal, so why flaunt our most “fringe” elements?  I’ll get to that in a moment, too.

I’ve spent a fair amount of time in Italy over the last year, and it’s been funny to have my friends there tell me how uptight and puritanical I am.  Sexuality is something that is bubbling right at the surface here.  It can be unnerving just walking down the street to have people look at me in an overtly sexual way.  I come from a culture where that’s not something you do on 4^th Avenue in the middle of the day.  Maybe in a club at night, but not all the time.

So I can understand being uncomfortable with the over-the-top sexuality on display at Pride.  Out of context it’s a little alarming.  But there’s a history here.

History of Pride

For those who aren’t up on their gay history, here’s the story of where Pride celebrations came from.  I really think the background on this is helpful.

So, in the 50s and 60s, the gay community had it rough.  There were groups dedicated to proving that homosexuals could be assimilated into the rest of society, as “normal” people.  This was a challenge, as gay men, afraid of being outed, were being entrapped by police officers in city parks (one of the few places they could go to meet each other), and lesbians and drag queens were being strip searched at bars (one of the few places THEY could go to meet each other).

In many places, it was illegal for a woman to be found wearing fewer than three feminine articles of clothing.  But, the only way to prove whether someone was wearing men’s underwear , even to prove if she was a woman, was to have her undress.  Publically – or not.  Just going to a bar, or expressing gender in a way that was comfortable was dangerous for a queer person.  There was no real, safe way to meet other queers, and no, real, safe way to express homosexuality.

The early “homophile” groups engaged in pickets.  Quiet ones.  In suits and dresses, and white gloves.  Finding it important to “fit in,” they adhered to strict rules, removing anything that could be seen as offensive or abnormal.  Not everyone in the community agreed with this strategy (we never do), but the pickets went on for a while.  There’s a great documentary, “Gay Pioneers” about the movement at that time.  I really recommend it if you can find it.

Something changed radically the night of June 28, 1969, in the middle of a raid at the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village.  The bar was known as a gay bar, the only one in town where men could dance together, and was frequented by the most marginalized parts of the community:  queens, hustlers, homeless youth.  The parts that nobody wanted visible.  Raids had been happening more frequently.  Tension was building.  When men were asked for their identification, and women were escorted inside for gender checks.  Somebody said, “no.” Then someone else did the same.  For the first time.  A police officer pushed a drag queen.  She hit him with her purse.

The bitch hit him with her bag.

And that was it.  It erupted into a riot.  Things thrown, police attacked, fires lit.  The riot continued the next day, growing from 100 people to 1000.  It continued a week later.   Wikipedia has a great post on this, detailing the whole thing.  It even has a map of the bar.

Stonewall was immediately something important to the community.  A rallying cry that told us we could stand up for what was important to us.  That the most marginalized would fight for all of us.

An early homophile organization, the Mattachine Society, published this in its newsletter about the Stonewall, and  those who fought there.

It catered largely to a group of people who are not welcome in, or cannot afford, other places of homosexual social gathering…. The Stonewall became home to these kids. When it was raided, they fought for it. That, and the fact that they had nothing to lose other than the most tolerant and broadminded gay place in town, explains why.

I’m not a fan of violent protest.  I am a fan of standing up for what is right.  And I love that queen for swinging her bag (though I wish she’d kissed the cop instead).  When I read this on Wikipedia, I teared- up:

Beat poet and longtime Greenwich Village resident Allen Ginsberg lived on Christopher Street, and happened upon the jubilant chaos. After he learned of the riot that had occurred the previous evening, he stated, “Gay power! Isn’t that great!… It’s about time we did something to assert ourselves”, and visited the open Stonewall Inn for the first time. While walking home, he declared to Lucian Truscott, “You know, the guys there were so beautiful—they’ve lost that wounded look that fags all had 10 years ago”

So Pride is important.  Beyond the commercialism and the binge-drinking, it’s a declaration of individuality.  It’s a nod to the street kids and the hustlers that said, “no.”  It’s a thank you to the queen with the purse.

Does everyone in the parade know that?  Hell no.  Are they looking for a good time?  Yes.  A chance to be their most outlandish self?  Maybe.  The first time I marched I was scared.  Would my family see me on tv?  Would this ruin my political career?  I made sure I wasn’t in a position to be photographed with a partially-naked, or body-painted person, just in case.

I was also exhilarated.  I’ll tell you I get a thrill every time I march, every time I watch, every time I hear the rumble of the dykes on bikes.  And I tear up every time I see PFLAG marching with their kids; church congregations marching in rainbow colors.  Our communities are all diverse.  We all have marginalized segments that are told to be quiet.  Once a year, the gay community embraces itself.  Fully.  And publically.

I often get the question, “Why does the gay community have to march?  The straight community doesn’t have a ‘Straight Pride parade.’”

No, the straight community doesn’t have a parade once a year to declare its sexual independence.  The straight community has the mainstream media to do that every day of the year.

Here’s a challenge for everyone:  take one day and notice every sexual thing that you see.  Look at the ads in magazines, the billboards, the tv commercials.  Look at the books and the movies, and the sitcoms you watch.  Consider what’s on the news, and how many people you hear talking about the date they went on last night.  And consider how many of those things are presented in a heterosexual way, whether overtly or not.

It’s enough to make just about anyone want to put on assless chaps and dance in the street.

Thanks for the questions, my dears.

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.)

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.