(PS: this is NOT the GuestBlogger..LOL)Hey Ya'll!
This week's blog post comes from one of my dear friends, Peachy Keen, over at Sweet Peachy Keen. I've known her since I was flat chested, wore thick glasses. We literally have grown up together and I always thought of her as one of my best and most fondest childhood friends. So trust me when I tell you it was a surprise when I found out after some years later, that she was a lesbian. I was happy she was walking in her truth and loved her for it! (Cause TheMochaPeach is like Gaga...a friend of the gays and a serious fag hag! LMAO!) I asked her to do a guest blog for me about her coming out story...and after months of procrastination in true Peach style..she finally finished. I hope to give a new perspective on what it's like being black, lesbian and in HotLanta. Enjoy!!!
When The Mocha Peach asked me to guest blog, I was ecstatic! But soon, in true procrastinator form, I developed some excuse to well… procrastinate. This time, it was the dilemma of length (the excuses don’t have to be good, folks.) I knew she wanted the skinny on the whole gay thing. I didn’t know whether she wanted the short or long version.
So this is my story… late and medium sized.
The question everyone asks first is, “When did you become gay?” And to that I say, “the same time you became straight.” Really, though, I knew there was something different about me and my desires when I was about six years old. All of my attractions were to women… some (much) older, some my age, but never of the male species. In first grade, I asked a close buddy to see his winky on the school bus. He “whipped” it out and I yelled, “EWWW!”... then ran off the bus to immediately tell my mom that creep had exposed himself to me. We weren’t so buddy-buddy after that. I didn’t want any parts of anyone possessing one of those disgusting looking things. Meanwhile, I passed off most of my crushes as “mentors”, women I simply looked up to, or friends. In fact, I had crushes on almost all of my close friends (yes, including The Mocha Peach) but at that age, it was pretty normal to sort of pine away for your little buddies in some fashion. Everyone had that misty look in their eyes for one reason or another. So I was never found out. And honestly, it wasn’t even that clear to me.
I had a high school sweetheart. He now has a beautiful new wife and baby. I still declare that he’s the only man I’ve ever been in love with. And I still think it’s because he’s a fellow Gemini. We have a propensity to be more… open. It was his soul and his personality that I was in love with. And the reason he can still make me laugh to this day.
Fast forward to my college years... I was waitressing when a loyal, repeat customer sat at the bar. She was close to some of my co-workers and came in often. Her best friend, a co-worker, came to tell me that she’d wanted my number but he’d told her I was straight. I thought for a second and replied, “Give it to her.” She was (is) stunning. A Haitian beauty. Brown skin, locs, eyes like you’ve never seen. Piercings, tattoos, and a look that said she didn’t give two shits what anyone thought of her. She was my first. And being with her made me a light come on. Suddenly, EVERYTHING made sense… why I’d never felt emotionally connected to a man, why I ALWAYS faked it (always)and why I got butterflies when I’d see a strong, sexy stud (more on that later). I realized the only reason I hadn’t acted on my feelings before was because I’d simply never considered it as an option. Now I know that’s because it’s not a “lifestyle,” it’s just who you are.
And now… well, my dating life sucks just like any other single woman. In the words of Yo Gotti, “Women lie, men lie, money don’t lie.” But seriously, most people, gay, straight, white, black or other lie about shit for no reason. If it’s happened to you, my straight sista, it’s happened to us dykes (which, by the way, is like “nigga” to us… we can say it, you can’t). I’m an attractive, feminine woman with my head on straight. I have a child not because I had a momentary bout of straightness, but because I wanted one. I don’t have many social interactions with straight people. In general, straight women seem clueless, eternally “curious” and just want to ask a zillion questions about lesbian sex and straight men think that they are just the nigga to change your mind and your “preference.” I’m pretty sure if some gay man approached that same nigga to change his mind about being straight, he’d stab him. But I digress. And all of them, (“straighters” as my bff and I call the heteros) male and female alike, want to know about the stud thing.
So, in absolutely NO attempt to speak for all lesbians, I will explain what a stud is to me and why I find them absolutely irresistible. First of all, besides a small number of people with legitimate gender identity issues, or those who don’t observe or relate to any gender at all, studs are not “trying to be men.” Please believe when a stud (a typically southern term… a.k.a. dom/aggressive/etc.) takes off her masculine outerwear, there is a beautiful woman standing there. NOT a hairy, sweaty, ball-having, nasty-footed man. No matter what is done in the bed, it is still being done between two women. Every conversation you have is with a woman. Some of us more old-fashioned lesbians have a tendency to play into the hetero-normative roles but those roles are still being played between two women. For example, I like for my stud to be in charge, to take out the trash and pump my gas. And I’m usually the one cooking and cleaning. But this is in no way done as an attempt to mirror a man and woman. If women are who you’re attracted to, there is no substitute. That old Beyonce song, “That’s How You Like It?” has always reminded me of how I feel about studs. Can you imagine how strong and confident a woman has to be to face the world just as she feels comfortable without caving to the incessant stares she receives all day long? Very strong and very confident! I appreciate a beautiful person in any gender, clothing or situation. But a “stud” will be in my bed as long as I have anything to do with it.
And consequentially, at the close of this (I procrastinated even further upon beginning and had many starts and pauses)… I am involved with woman who makes my coochie jump at the mere thought of her. After a year of celibacy with a one-time drunken anomaly in the fall, I am getting more than I can stand. She eats my pussy until I pass out. She straps me like she was born with the dick. She touches me soooo soft. And that voice! That “swag”! Yeeeeeees, ma’am!!! I ain’t recruiting, y’all. Hell, we got a shortage of good ones as well! But, I’m just sayin’… don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it… at least once or twice. Either way, it’s all love.
Stay sweet and peachy, y’all. I know I will!
***You can visit Peachy over at Her Blog: sweetpeachykeen.com.