“As queer women, we have so few opportunities to be in safe queer spaces where we can let ourselves go”
BY THE CHEEKY CHARMER, IMAGE BY SHVETS PRODUCTIONS VIA PEXELS
You know how it is, you’re in a deep lip lock with a gorgeous woman you met at a party, and you think, “why do I do this?”
I mean, I know why: I’m single and I’m attracted to beautiful women, but stick with me the Cheeky Charmer’s (the CC) about to get all serious on your ass (yes, I’m as surprised as you are).
I’m talking about the wider implications. As in why do I completely lose my shit, like a panther on heat whenever I’m single and mingling at a party with stunning ladies? Why is my head constantly going up and down, like an over oiled periscope, looking for the hottest girl in the room? Why do I see events as a chance to meet and make-out with gorgeous women and get as many numbers as I can?
It happened this weekend. There I was strutting my stuff, peacocking like there was no tomorrow on the dance floor (read Dad dancing), when I spotted the cutest woman sipping on a cocktail in the corner. The panther kicked in, I made a beeline (or a panther line – do panthers make lines?), we got a-talking and then we got a-kissing. Like all night kissing. Like not coming up for air kissing. Which was utterly delightful. But it brings me back to my point…
Why do I do this?
It’s the same at Pride. I’m ashamed to say I get lost in the party, the promise of who I may meet and make out with rather than what it actually means.
This year it’s the same. My main thought process has been, “where can I meet cute girls?” I tingle with anticipation at the thought of bagging digits, kisses or even finding my (seemingly fictitious) wife. Maybe we’ll bump into each other under a rainbow flag somewhere and that’ll be it?
And I know why I do this. It’s superficial, selfish and short sighted.But it’s not my fault (well, not totally – the CC is a horny panther after all. Or tiger monkey – see Defining bedroom confidence).
As queer women, we have so few opportunities to be in safe queer spaces where we can let ourselves go, free from a toxic masculine gaze, fear and derision. So, when we’re somewhere safe, surrounded by people we’re attracted to and who are attracted to us, we go nuts. At least I do. My inner teenager is released, wanting to make-out with as many women as possible.
“As queer women, we have so few opportunities to be in safe queer spaces where we can let ourselves go, free from a toxic masculine gaze, fear and derision”
I had a sobering moment recently that made me reflect a little deeper. I’d been hearing about groups of cis-hetero guys dressing their mates up on drunken nights out, in drag or clothes implying they were gay. For shits and giggles. Presumedly. And it made me angry.
Because, even if you put it down to an innocent lack of thought, it shows there’s systemic queerphobia running through this country. That being gay or trans is sometimes still seen as the punchline to a joke. That the pain incurred trying to live your authentic self in a world that still seeks to ridicule, or worse, is completely marginalised by such behaviour. That while dressing your mate up to “look gay” might be a laugh to you but it erases and trivialises the lived experience of those who can’t let the world see who they truly are.
And it made me reflect on all the times I’ve personally felt my liberties curbed, my freedom to express my glorious queer self, the times I’ve been in physical danger of being beaten up (or worse). And I wished anyone donning queer garb for “a laugh” could walk in our shoes for a while.
“This Pride I’ll try to remember it’s not about the drinking, the snogs or the phone numbers. It’s about being proud and visible in our identities”
So, this Pride I’ll try to remember it’s not about the drinking, the snogs or the phone numbers. It’s about being proud and visible in our identities. Because there’s still so much educating to be done in the cis-hetero world before we can all take more than a stolen moment at a once-a-year party to kiss who we want.
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