“Raga, you cannot be a lesbian. You don’t look like one”
BY RAGA OLGA D’SILVA (@TOTALLYOUTNOW)
Author: Untold Lies, TEDx speaker,Founder/CEO OUTspoken Speakers Network www.ragadsilva.com
“Raga, you cannot be a lesbian. You don’t look like one”, said one male friend to me.
“Raga, you just haven’t met the right man yet,” said another male friend to me, winking at me.
“Raga, OMG, I have been dreaming of this all my life. My fantasy of being friends with two lesbians has come true”, said another excited heterosexual man to me.
“Raga, here, this will make you DROOOOOL,” said another male friend as he shared photos of naked women with me.
I have learnt to ignore such comments over time, but they also do make me reflect on the social norms in our straight heteronormative world!
Ironically, I am writing this as we approach International Lesbians Day on 8 October. It took me nearly 50 years to ‘come out’ and then another two years before I called myself a ‘lesbian’.
Why?
I ran away from that word for decades. The abuse, slurs, threats, judgement, trolls, shame, and guilt associated with this word used to make me cringe. I refused to be that person who was called a ‘lesbian’. Another label I did not need. And, not to forget, I was born and raised in India. Indians just did not have women who were gay. Our women, after all, carried the burden of society on their shoulders.
So, I stayed invisible, until when I decided to get out of that closet and allowed myself to be visible.
Isn’t it true of most women, that we are invisible anyway?
In a world where men are celebrated, women do have to try really hard to stand out. I recall, during my time in New Zealand, I once met a well-known businessman at an event. We were introduced and we shook hands. He instantly looked at me and said, “Wow, your handshake is as strong as a man’s.” Known for my quick wit, I instantly responded, “No, mine is actually as strong as a woman’s. Your handshake is soft and weak like a man’s.” He turned beetroot red and refrained from making any such sexist comments that evening.
Imagine, therefore, as an Indian woman, lesbian, a mother, in a cross-cultural relationship with another woman, independent and an award-winning entrepreneur at that, having three countries I call home (UK, India and New Zealand), how this intersectionality must sit in this world. Most men are intrigued by me. Most women find me ‘safe’ to be around their husbands. And most of me, I yawn and this boring stereotype.
We have all been brought up in a heteronormative world, with strong patriarchal influences. Misogyny is prevalent and comments shared above are commonplace and something that we have all become used to and most often brush aside. There was a time, I must admit, I would laugh along (although nervously) so that I wasn’t seen as a prude. But, these days, I stop and call out such misogynistic and homophobic comments.
Misinformation and lack of awareness create strong reactions to our ‘coming out’.
“So, should I now call you an uncle?” Said my mother, twenty years ago, when she discovered a letter that I had written to my best friend (which I never posted). In that letter, I had disclosed how I was confused about my sexual orientation and that I was planning to explore dating women. My very educated mother, with quite a liberal mindset, thought I was going to be a ‘hijra’ as soon as she read the word ‘gay’. She was brought up on such stereotypical conditioning that she believed that every gay person was a hijra. (hijra is the 3rd gender in India – mostly born male but look and dress in feminine attire).
Most of my own friends are not clued on to our LGBTQIA world. Some have innocently asked me if I need a separate toilet as a lesbian. Some have even asked me if my children are biologically mine. Once again, highlighting how our society often gets confused with the difference between gender and sexuality.
I have often been told that I do not “look” like a lesbian because even our Bollywood films have presented such a stereotypical representation of a ‘lesbian’ (butch, short hair, wearing a checked shirt, with a cigarette in one hand, and glass of spirit on the other hand with masculine presenting mannerisms). Whilst that may be true of some lesbians, there are many like myself who do not fit that version. Looking back at history, lesbians needed to perhaps present themselves in this manner to make a space amongst men. But, over the past few decades things have changed. Those who are publicly ‘out’ express themselves in the way that is most suited to them – and we are just regular people.
I often get comments about what I wear. Most love my distinct Western-Indian style. Some call it ‘outlandish’. These are the ones who ‘gender’ clothes; you know the ones who pick up blue for boys, and pink for the girls. I smile at such comments and happily say that I am glad to be a lesbian. I am free to express myself in whatever way I wish. It is all part of the ‘freedom’ I feel within, after all. And what better way to express than clothes!
The misinformation comes through many times in different situations. At a work do in Mumbai, just pre-lockdown, I recall walking into these large lawns at a five-star property. My story had recently appeared in Humans of Bombay and Brut India. Many industry colleagues were at this party and I could sense discomfort around as I walked towards them, as until then I had not ever spoken about my sexual orientation freely, just as no straight person ever shares that they are straight, right?
So, as I walked along, I observed heads turning towards me, and then turning away. Finally, one wonderful male colleague came forward, gave me a warm hug and said, “Come. Come. Meet our other friends.” I walked along, and all said hello. I noticed they were all busy watching something on a phone. My friend immediately showed it to me and said “We are all drooling.” It was an image of a nude woman.
They instantly thought because I was a lesbian, I had now become ‘like a man’ and found pleasure in such sexual expressions of other women.
I turned around and said “Thank you, but no thanks. This is of no interest to me.” One man responded, “See, you are not a real lesbian.” They thought being a lesbian meant I started thinking and feeling like a man. Nope, sorry to share this basic truth with you, my friend. I am still a woman. I think like a woman, I feel like a woman, and I love like a woman.
And just before he would offer me a single malt, a man’s drink, I smiled sweetly and asked, “Oh, please can you get me a GIN & water please.”
I am a proud lesbian. A word I shied away from owning. But, today, I own this word ‘lesbian’.
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