An Open Letter To The Baby Dykes Living In Rural America
It gets better. I promise.
It gets better. I promise.
There’s no way she didn’t know.
But you still want to be *the* pretty girl.
A little bit of magic and a lot of 4 AM talks about feelings.
We couldn’t handle watching “Bound” in front of our peers and we couldn’t understand why.
Be nice, be real, be sexy AF.
Everyone just assumed I had a new gal pal.
She stopped, looked at me right in my soul, and asked, “Can I go down on you?”
Come out for yourself. Because the closet that you are in only fits one person, and it locks from the inside.
For once, I wasn’t the sole girl with a girlfriend.
How do I know if I’m moving too fast? Is scissoring real? How do I keep my cool?
I now realize that “gold star” lesbian isn’t a title that I need in order to finally feel “real.”
The boundary between lovers and besties is VERY murky.
I’m pretty sure it’s in our DNA to like Tegan and Sara.
For me, it was a bible. The holy book of lesbian sex.