Why I’m glad I waited… for lesbian sex.

FCKH8. NOH8. It Gets Better. And of course, the cadillac of LGBT campaigns, the Human Rights Campaign (HRC). While I encourage all those struggling with identifying as LGBT or struggling with LGBT rights issues to google these campaigns and utilize their resources, I am personally going to tell you a secret that I haven’t told anyone: I’m glad I waited to come out of the closet.


Before you get out the glittery pitchforks and stab me to death in a grotesque but fabulous fashion, hear me out: everyone figures out who they like to fuck in due time, but with how accessible knowledge is for youth today (read: the fucking interweb), I fear that kids won’t have the incredible experience I had growing up, when I was more worried about making choral soloist than if I was a more clitoral or vaginal stimulation kinda gal. I digress. (I always do).


For five years, from junior high through college, I dated a boy. A fantastic, creative, sweet, intelligent boy… Ben. We met in theatre camp. While everyone was out stealing Zimas from their basement fridges and trying to muster through hand jobs, we watched cartoons and ate Cheetos. And let me tell you right now, since both of us had braces, my mom kept us stocked up to the elbows with anything that could get stuck in our complicated orthodontia so the chance we would make out was nil. Carrots, chips, chicken wings, nachos, you get the messy, sticky picture. Even when Ben and I would fight (usually about musicals), we would always find our way back to each other in a truly remarkable fashion after a few months of skulking around the local coffee shop or friday night “open dances” at the boys’ high school down the street. The night of my senior prom, all of my friends rented a hotel room so they could “keep partying”.  Ben and I went to my house, changed into pajamas, put on Lady and the Tramp, and fell asleep spooning on the couch. I’ve always been the sturdy one so I was the big spoon.


Yea, I figured out I was gay later in my life (is 21 years old that late in life?) but I had a great time growing up with my best friend. Now, he plays Peter Pan for Tokyo Disney and I am so proud of him. He has a wonderful boyfriend (who coincidentally also played Peter Pan so I have no idea how they keep all the green tights straight)!


When I came out, I dated some real gems, and I cannot imagine what I would have done if I had gone through this process in my teens. I won’t share every ex story, but some of these are too delicious to pass up. NO NAMES. Just laughs.


I brought one girl home for Christmas: BIG DISASTER. Sitting at a huge table with my entire extended family, one of my cousins nonchalantly asked my girlfriend what she did for a living. She responded in a booming, obnoxious voice, “It doesn’t matter, I’ll be a millionaire by the time I’m 35.” SHE WAS THIRTY. My whole family was silent for 45 seconds straight… a rarity for them.


Another girl? I brought her as a date to my best friend’s wedding. As a bridesmaid, I couldn’t really keep track of her, but when the maid of honor and best man both approached me clandestinely to let me know that my life partner asked them each if she could “score some X”, I thought I was going to be sick. Ecstasy? Really? I mean, at least try to score a recreational drug that didn’t peak in the 90s. Fah real.


Probably the best story of bringing a girl home comes from a girl who brought me home. With an 18 year age difference, I should have known it wouldn’t work. I was mistaken for her daughter multiple times, and when she brought me to her brother’s house for Easter, she sat me at the kid’s table. Yup, a card table in the side room with her nephew (who was older than me), her niece, and a 12 year old second cousin. Ironically, I had a blast. We broke up a few weeks later, and her nephew and I are still Facebook friends. Never say that bonding over Easter Ham isn’t a thing. It’s a thing.


I’m not saying, “Don’t come out.” What am I saying is… if your clearly dykey daughter has a gay boyfriend for five or six years, bring ’em some cheetos. And let ’em figure shit out in their own time.


If you will excuse me, my favorite snack food is waiting in bulk in my pantry. Hey, it’s been a long week, readers, and neon-flavored snacks sometimes get me through the week. Yep… “neon-flavored”… let that sink in.

2 thoughts on “Why I’m glad I waited… for lesbian sex.

  1. His royal highness, Christopher Rupert…..

    Your bffs have also been proud to be your bffs throughout your journey, all the way from cheetos stand up 🙂

    xoxo lerve

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