It’s frustrating out there for women looking to meet other women. Unlike our straight sisters, who are bombarded with a constant overflow of dick every time they so much as hint at feeling lonely, us queer ladies have a much bigger challenge. Especially in small towns like mine, where every lady I fall for is either completely heterosexual, or only interested in trimming my split ends because she’s a stylist I’ve paid to cut my hair.
Ugh!
Ever since middle school, I’ve had this horrible habit of crushing on unavailable women: my brothers’ girlfriends, my happily married teachers, and pretty much any woman who knows how to create a perfectly layered bob. I know, it’s slightly masochistic. Why do I do this to myself? Why don’t I just suck it up and join a lesbian dating site? I’ve heard some great success stories from my friends, but even then, it feels like they end up being straight or standing over me as I sit in a salon chair.
It’s seriously getting so old, this whole negative feedback loop of pining over women I can never have. My therapist thinks it’s because I’m afraid to actually let someone in, and that I use these impossible crushes as a way of distracting myself from dealing with my own issues. I think that’s true. Also one time I masturbated with the handle of a paddle brush. Who knows where this behavior came from. Regardless of what’s causing it, I just want this cliché straight-women-and-stylists-who-are-currently-cutting-my-hair obsession to stop.
I’m not ready to give up hope yet. Why should I push my feelings aside just because 99% of the responses I’ve gotten are “I have a boyfriend,” or, “You know I’m straight,” or, “(gently tilts my head back to center because I keep moving it).” Call me bold. Call me fearless. Call me a fool, if you must, but God as my witness, I will meet the woman of my dreams, despite all of these straights and hairdressers.
Don’t get me wrong, things aren’t all bad. I had a date with a nice attorney just a few weeks ago, but I just wasn’t feeling the spark. Maybe we didn’t have enough common interests. Maybe she gave me subconscious bad vibes. Maybe I just longed for the task of helplessly trying to gain her affections over the sound of a blow dryer. Who knows?
One of these days, I’ll find my intelligent, beautiful needle in the haystack. But that day isn’t today, because I have a hair appointment and I pretty much know how this is going to go. Today is but another day where I must sit back, take a few deep breaths, and let Jeanine touch up my roots without her noticing how turned on I am.
