Lesbian Lament

Seema Shah

…it has become fashionable to separate the spiritual (psychic and emotional) from the political…In the same way, we have attempted to separate the spiritual and the erotic… Part of the lesbian consciousness is an absolute recognition of the erotic within our lives and, taking that a step further, dealing with the erotic not only in sexual terms.^*
Audre Lorde, 1978

1998, Colorado

Tricia and I are out on our second date.

Something has been on my mind all evening. It's getting late and I need to spit it out. I'm worried that what I have to say will ruin things.

She knows I have something important to tell her, but she has no idea what.

"I've never been with a woman before," I hear my 29-year-old self say.

Not what she was expecting to hear. I can tell she is surprised.

"Does that change how you feel about things?"

It takes her a few seconds to respond. "No. Maybe if you were younger it would. The only difference it makes is that I would be more cautious. I'd want to move more slowly."

I am relieved it wasn't as big a deal as I thought it would be.

-----

We continue to spend time together, but things really aren't moving forward. I ask her what the deal is.

"I've thought about it more and the fact that you've never slept with a woman does make a difference."

Not what I was expecting to hear.

"In what way?"

"It's not just one thing. I want to be able to share experiences like coming out and past relationships with other women. I'm not sure I want to get involved with someone who still has to go through all the coming out stuff. I dealt with that years ago. You'd be a good person to date if you were at a different place with things."

"That seems really unfair and shallow."

"I'm not saying it's fair, but that's just how things are. If you took a poll of all the lesbians you know, none of them would want to enter a relationship with someone who hadn't been in a relationship with another woman."

It isn't just Tricia rejecting me, it's the entire lesbian population. <<< >>>

July 15, 1998 journal entry

I don't feel like I can "come out" (that I'm really a lesbian) without having ever had a real lesbian relationship, without ever really having anything sexual with another woman. It's like I know I am, but don't feel "qualified." It's just bizarre. Once again, I don't feel like I fit in. Kind of tough. And I don't know how to deal with this.

It seems ironic to me that someone who is willing to take it on and face friends, family, co-workers, etc. faces the most resistance from other lesbians!

October 29, 1998 entry

Exclusion from "mainstream" groups, but also from the oppressed groups.

1999, Colorado

It's time for me to venture back into my work world – the one I'm responsible for inviting Tricia into. I've been away for a few months, first in the hospital and then on medical leave for the breakdown almost everyone assumes was caused by Tricia and/or issues related to my sexuality. (Though these factors contributed, they were only drops in the bucketful of reasons I stopped being able to deal with life).

I've been far removed from work and, as a result, from the few lesbians I'd considered my friends – Tricia, Jane, and Anne. Unfortunately, this distance itself has created more distance by making certain things clear. I haven't even seen or spoken to Anne since she brought me to the Emergency Department. And I've stayed away from Tricia because, although she has visited, she's brought her mixed messages with her.

I don't feel ready to deal with this world, but I have no choice.

-----

The transition back to work has been far from smooth.

For one thing, Tricia and Anne are now together.

-----

January 29, 1999 entry

Dr. H – we talked about my not fitting into any subculture – she seems to think that I don't have to worry about that, that it's not about fitting in, it's about liking myself…needing to fit into a subculture is still needing to conform…I need to forge my own identity and be comfortable with it, confident with it.

March 6, 1999 entry

Everyone (i.e., other lesbians) always makes it seem like it is okay and normal to be struggling with coming out, but it's not really "ok"…

I guess I never totally "trusted" my friendships with Jane or Anne, but I thought they at least cared for me a little.

Being friends with Tricia, Jane and Anne gave me some connection, some feeling of beginning to belong to the lesbian community. But that feeling has changed now that Tricia and Anne are together. This, and the fact that neither Anne nor Jane seem to understand why I have a hard time with this.

I am back to feeling alone and on the outside.

September 12, 1999 entry

First time writing since moving from Colorado.

I want things to be different here – I want to start off being totally out and comfortable with it.

December 1, 1999 entry

Went to a lesbian reading last night…it was nice to go there and say that I had just moved…that I had an explanation for people not having seen me around before.

March 11, 2000 entry

Went for a walk with Andrea yesterday…she seemed sympathetic about being new here and trying to break into the lesbian community. She said this is a really hard place to do that – that you have to be aggressive. That people won't come up to you. She said she had a really hard time her first year here – and it took her a while to meet people. So that made me feel better.

April 16, 2000 entry

It seems hypocritical for these women talk so passionately about violence against women…I like being part of this group and I want to become more politically involved. But…

<<< >>>

2001, British Columbia

I don't think there's any logic to when Maya's hot and when she's cold towards me – it seems to be a power play sort of thing more than anything else.

It's about 2 a.m. and she's giving me a ride home from the bar. Everything was okay when we got in the car, but something has gone wrong on the way home – I honestly don't know what.

She slams on the brakes and yells: "GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR!"

I try to talk to her, but she just keeps yelling at me to get out of her car. Whatever it is I've done to upset her, I can't imagine it warrants this.

As I step out of her car into one of downtown's seedier intersections, a drunk man is trying to pull open the locked back car door. There are a few other characters around, all looking about as seedy as the neighborhood.

Maya's drives off and leaves me here. No buses are running at this hour. I contemplate walking home, but I'm lucky – as lucky as one can be in this situation – a taxi appears. I get in, tears streaming down my face.

"Boyfriend trouble?"

"Something like that."

Something very much like that.

<<< >>>

2003, British Columbia

This is our first date.

I think this may have potential. We met through a mutual friend I trust – not the bar or an ad – and we just seem to connect. For one thing, she makes me laugh more than most people.

It is late – it must be after 1 a.m. We've been talking in my car outside her house. I intermittently have the car running for short periods of time to keep it warm.

I'm about to start it up again when she leans in and says, "I really want to kiss you."

I not sure I want to take this anywhere physical on the first date, but at the moment, it feels right.

By the time I tell her I want to kiss her too, she has already moved in close enough so that her lips are almost touching mine.

It doesn't take long before she is on top of me and has slid my T-shirt up. Her mouth has already left mine and moved on.

She undoes the buttons on the fly of my jeans and slides her hand inside.

As soon as I feel the warmth of her mouth between my legs, I realize I need her to stop. I ask her if we can go inside.

She hesitates. Looks out the car window at her house, but doesn't answer.

"Don't you want me to come in?"

"It hasn't been that long since I've been out of a serious relationship. I'm not sure I'm ready to have a woman sleep over."

-----

This is our second date. We're heading home after going out with some of her friends. As soon as we get in to her car, she moves in and kisses me fast and hard. There's no emotion in it, just sex, and she's making her way down.

Her hand has already made its way inside my pants.

I feel her tongue. My body doesn't feel like mine. It doesn't feel like anything.

"Where are you?"

"I'm here."

"No, you were a million miles away. It was like you were into it and then became, I don't know, passive or something."

I tell her I need to stop, that I want her to take me home.

-------

I'm still trying to make this work. We go to a party her friends are having. It's hard not to notice that she's not acting very warm towards me. vAfter the party, everyone decides to go to a bar downtown. She asks me if I want to go and I tell her I'm fine either way. This seems to make her angry. She barely says one word to me on the way over.

At the bar, I'm not expecting her to entertain me, but she's obviously not including me. I try not to let her coldness cut into me.

Despite the fact that she's ignored me all evening, we leave the bar together. I'm really tired, so she drives my car back to my place. But she's still barely speaking to me and seems even angrier.

I ask her what I've done to make her so mad. She says she's angry because she thinks I didn't really want to go to the bar and I should've just said so. I have a hard time believing this, so I rack my brain for some other explanation. Something I can understand.

I try to talk to her, but everything I say seems to add fuel to the fire. When we're a few blocks from my place, where I assume she's spending the night, she suddenly pulls over and yells: "GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR !"

Surreal repetition. Same words, different person.

I refuse to get out.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE CAR!"

This is insane. She's kicking me out of my own car.

"Can't we at least talk about what happened? I don't even understand what I did that was so wrong."

"I don't want to talk to you. Get out of the car."

I don't move.

"I mean it."

"I'm not getting out. This is my fucking car."

"Fine. Then I'll get out." The door slams shut and she storms off, leaving the car running.

It takes me a second to absorb what happened. I shut the car off and get out of the car. It's the middle of night and we're the only ones out here.

For some reason I don't want this to be over, so I desperately walk towards her and call her name.

She looks back at me over her shoulder and screams: "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

As I get closer, I reach for her shoulder and ask her to please stop walking.

She whips around, glares at me and shoves me hard – hard enough that I fall to the ground.

"YOU MADE ME DO THIS!"

She turns and walks away.

Kicked to the curb

Not just a figure of speech

Kicked out of the car

To the side of the street

I lie alone in the dark

Stunned past belief

In a bed of dirt and of grass

Not her bed like last week

* From "Scratching the Surface: Some Notes on Barriers to Woman and Loving" (first published in 1978). Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches. Freedom, CA: Crossing Press, 1984. 45-52. [return to article]

Working Notes

Personal experience is largely what shapes our thoughts about what it means to be a lesbian today. In this piece, I've used examples from my life, including journal entries, with the hope and intention of evoking an aspect of coming out that some other lesbians may share.

My idea of what the lesbian community looked like in the late 1970s/early 1980s – based on what I've read and what I've heard from others who were part of the community at that time – is a vision based on feminist ideals, a vision of compassion, inclusion, meaningful connection, and safety.

But my experience of the lesbian community since the late 1990s has not coincided with this vision. That is not to say that I have not met individual lesbians who embody this vision, but I've encountered more than enough who don't. I have yet to have the experience of observing, or being part of, a cohesive lesbian "community."

There have been times I've compromised my integrity and gone against my beliefs in attempt to fit in or make a lesbian relationship work. I've done this in a number of ways (not described in my piece), including not always feeling like I could be completely honest about myself.

For example, after Tricia's response, I decided wasn't going to jeopardize the next potential relationship by sharing the fact that I had never been with a woman before. And, more generally, I wasn't going to be open with other lesbians about where I was in the coming out process. This left no place, at the time, where I could be completely open and comfortable about my sexuality.

The foundation of lesbian relationships – be it intimate or at the level of community – seems seldom based on compassion, inclusion, meaningful connection, and safety. As far as I can see, the core truth that applies to all lesbians today is that they sleep with (or desire to sleep with) women. For me, this is not a shared value but rather a shared fact.

About the Author

Seema Shah is a Vancouver physician who left practice in 2004 due to chronic illness. Since then she has facilitated workshops using literature and creative writing for people living with illness and for health professional students. Her creative writing has been published or is forthcoming in Portfolio milieu 2004 (an anthology of Canadian women's writing), Women Who Care: Canadian Women's Experiences of Health Care and Caring, Blood and Thunder: Musings on the Art of Medicine, and others. In 2008, her writing was shortlisted for the Canadian Lesbian & Gay Archives' First Person Narrative Essay Contest.