85. Hope

So... there's been a weird side-effect to hanging out with the lesbians. I'm beginning to care. And I'm wondering what it means.

What do I mean by that? I'm beginning to care about things that I haven't cared about in years... actually probably ever. I'm beginning to care about what I look like. Now anyone who has discussed this issue with me (and those people are very small in number) knows that I have cared, but in a bad way... like basically, I hate how I look and I figure everyone else does too, so I don't think about it because it depresses me. I also have had a sort of hopeless attitude about it, sort of a belief that I couldn't really do anything about it, and besides... why bother? It's not like it would ever matter to anyone anyway. And beyond that... what the hell do I care what people think anyway? I mean, so what if someone thinks I'm ugly... it sucks, and it makes me feel crappy (and when I was in my depression, it made me not want to leave my room ever), but it doesn't actually matter.

Now I know some people are going to jump in here and go on about how everyone is beautiful in their own way, or whatever, and that's all well and good, but I'm actually not talking about that sort of thing. I'm just letting you know pretty much how my head has worked for the past... oh, 25 years. Whether or not I actually am as ugly as I've thought I am is kind of not the point, the point is that the way I'm thinking about myself is changing.

Now, I'm in a room full of lesbians and I care. It does matter. I want to look good. I think about what I wear before I leave my apartment. I'm doing my pilates every day cause I think that losing weight might actually make me look better... and besides, I kind of care about being healthy now, whereas before... well, what's the point in being healthy if you can't be happy? There's a hope here... and I don't know what it is, cause I still don't think I'd be okay (conscience wise) being in a relationship with a girl (although, I didn't feel a bit of guilt going on that 'date'-- what's that about?).

I started writing this blog post earlier today, and so I’ve done a bit of musing on the subject and I’ve thought of something else. Of course, I don’t know if I’ll be able to explain it properly, but I’ll give it a go.

Being around lesbians, being in a venue like a lesbian club where lesbians go to meet other girls, I’ve been experiencing something I’m not used to. It’s not that I’ve never had anyone express an interest in me, I have… it’s just never been anyone I was actually interested in. With any of the guys who have asked me out, or complimented me, or hit on me in some way; well, it’s like nothing resonated. They ask me out, or do their thing, and to be perfectly honest, it’s usually been more upsetting than anything, mostly because I think someone has convinced men that persistence is a good thing whereas I am convinced that my “no” means “no” – not just in regard to sex, but in regard to buying me a drink or dancing or something, and if they try to push me I get really pissed off.

Anyway, the difference is that when a woman does that same thing… well, I’ll reuse my own word here… something resonates. I really hear it, and more than that, I feel it. When I went to the club a few months ago and there was this American army girl (shhh… don’t ask, don’t tell!) who looked me up and down and said “Hey sexy”, I found myself grinning, and more than that, entertaining the possibility that I might, in fact, be sexy to her. How cheesy is that? When I’ve had similar greetings from men, my thought quite literally is “Pervert.” Being told that I’m “lovely”, or having my face stroked or hair played with by another woman (who is a lesbian, I might add)… this is going to sound strange to some straight people who have certain theories on lesbianism I think, but it all has made me feel more ‘feminine’ than I think I ever have before.

Does any of that make sense? Regardless, I feel hope. And that's kind of what this whole journey has been about.