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.

This is one of those questions I can really only answer for myself.  Gay friends, please comment.

Attraction is a funny thing.  I can find a man attractive, and not want to do the dirty with him.  Likewise, I can find a woman attractive – identify that she is indeed, smokin’ hot, or beautiful, or what-have-you – and not be “attracted to” her.  For me, there is something beyond a person’s physical beauty that attracts me to them, “with genuine interest.”  One of those things is their ability to emotionally and physically commit to me.  If a woman isn’t able to do that, gay or straight, it’s not going to work.  My attraction to them won’t last.

Now, that’s not to say that, if a woman is smokin’ hot, and attracted to me, but unavailable for long-term, emotional commitment, that I won’t have genuine interest in her.  I might, but it’s a cruel trick played by pheromones.  However, if a woman really likes me as a person, but isn’t physically attracted to me, it’s not going to work for me, whether she’s gay or straight.  I need to know that my partner wants to be with me sexually.  And if a woman wants to be with me sexually, she’s not straight.

So, do I pursue a woman if I really connect with her, but I think she’s straight?  Only until I find out that she is.  Pursuing a relationship with a woman who is not attracted to me isn’t interesting to me.  Personally, I think it borders on emotional self-abuse.

I will add that this doesn’t happen very often at all for me.  I’ve found myself attracted to a few “straight” women who turn out to be not-so-straight when it comes down to it.  But I think there’s some built in mechanism by which lady-lovin’-ladies can sniff each other out.  It’s in the eyes.  Or the swagger, or the shoving of her tongue down my throat.  I don’t know.  Something subtle like that.

Thank you for asking this question.  Truly.

First off, I want to say that there is no singular answer for why someone has an affair, whether they’re gay, straight, or something else.  I think you’re right that talking with your ex-wife would probably answer your specific questions more completely, and I encourage you to do that as soon as you feel comfortable.

That said, here’s what I have experienced:

The short answer:

It’s not as though there’s a chapter in the lesbian play-book about how to snare yourself a straight man for the purposes of procreating.  It would be much easier and cheaper to go to the sperm bank.

The long answer:

Some women aren’t aware that they are, in fact, lesbians until they meet a woman who rocks their world and their understanding of what attraction is.  Some women think that it’s normal to not want to kiss their partner, or to be neutral about or even “grossed-out” by sex with a man.  I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve heard it described by my “straight” friends.

Some women are bi-sexual, and don’t think of themselves that way until they meet a woman to whom they are attracted.  It can be a total surprise to them, as well as to their partner.

Some women are willing to ignore the fact that they are, in fact, gay in order to try to live the white-picket fence dream of having a family and a husband and a home.   It’s the dream we are all taught to aspire to, and the default we start with.  I mean, most of our parents are straight, right?

As I’ve said before, there are certainly generational things going on that inform how it is that lesbian relationships look.  Without role models, or positive portrayals of lesbian relationships, we’ve had to figure out what it looks like to live our lives.

Based on the fact that you were married for more than 26 years, I’m going to make an assumption about your ages.  Generally speaking, my generation of lesbians (30ish) grew up in a shifting society, where the idea of being in a committed relationship with another woman wasn’t an impossible one.  It is something that’s presented as, “not what I’d want for my daughter, but at least it’s love.”

And still, I remember being in high school and deciding that I wouldn’t be gay.  Looking at my best guy friends and making a list of who I could most stand to spend my life with, knowing that I’d never be attracted to them.  I wasn’t thinking about building a strategic long-term relationship with them.  I was thinking that I liked them.  That I loved them even.  And that I’d be able to make it work.  They weren’t some suckers that I thought I could dupe.  They were loving, beautiful men whose friendship was so strong that I thought it could be enough to have a life-long emotional relationship with them.  Even while I was in a long-term relationship with a woman.

The generation older than mine (to which I’m assuming you and your ex belong) grew up in a very different world.  That world was one where the idea of two women living together was a near impossibility.  That only happened for spinster sisters or widows.  Relationships between women were hidden, deviant, and never aspired to.  In fact, gay sex was illegal in a number of states.

Nearly everything around us still screams that it would be much easier to be accepted; so much easier to fit in.  Books, movies, tv shows, magazines, cocktail parties, co-workers, and on and on, all point to the “normal” straight relationships that are the generally assumed goal.  And sometimes, the idea of trying to live that dream with a man can be enough to convince women who would otherwise live as lesbians to push down the essence of who they are in order to try to be “normal”.  Having a shot at a patently accepted life with someone you love – especially someone who is your best friend – can be tempting, even if you know you’re not attracted to him.

But society is changing.  And that means that lesbians who have, in the past, chosen to try to live a straight life are now living in a more accepting society.  And that can allow all of us the beautiful freedom to live our lives fully and honestly.  Something that wasn’t always the case.  For the women who find themselves in inauthentic relationships with men, however, the transition can be painful for them and for their partners.  I’m grateful that the current generation will have less of these painful transitions as they are able to be themselves more fully from the beginning.

It’s an incredibly hard thing to be yourself when you’re gay.  But it’s even harder to not be yourself.

In the end, who we are will always come to the surface.  I don’t know your wife, or the relationship that you have.  But when you are able to talk about the whats and whys, you may find that she wishes that she hadn’t hurt her best friend.  Just the fact that you want to understand why this happened instead of blindly blaming says a lot.  Thank you for taking the time to ask.  I hope that you will find the peace and great, authentic love that we all deserve.

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.