Inspiration for those like me

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Be the Change.”

Is there anyone out there like me?

That is the question that plagued my mind as I grew up. I looked to the others around me hoping to catch a hint from anyone, just a single soul, telling me that they were the same. I lived a life of codes and hopes. I sent many of hints out to the people that didn’t want them. I cried at night when the girl I liked got a boyfriend, and all those hours we spent together, with me doing all these things, and telling all these jokes, and sending all these hints were for nothing. It took years for me to learn that I never had a chance with over three fourths of the people I thought I may have had a connection with. Theses were not connections these were my confused mind trying to find love, with no direction on how to find it.

I have searched high and low for something that made sense of this thing that I was. I spent my teen years trying to figure out who I was, and why I was, but the answer never really came. It was years of searching, years of collecting, years of making up my own mind about it, that lead me to who I am now.

The rest of the world gets to look at one another and find common ground, or should I say common love. Boys like girls and girls like boys, there are movies, songs, books, shows, and just everyday life around them to tell them how to act, how to live, how to breath, how to love, but what of the others?

What of the cast aways that don’t get the tingly feeling for the opposite sex? What of the poor girl sitting in her room trying to be what she is not just to fit in? Those boys, those glorious boys who love boys get all these books and movies made for them by the conquers of love in the past, but where are the women?

Where is the young crusaders to lead me to the promise land of information on how to be a lesbian in the world filled with people always questioning you and making you question yourself? Where is the book that tells me how to respond to boys making passes at me, telling me all I need is the right man? Where is the movie on how to ask a girl if she likes you without freaking her out? Where is my guide to my life?

I spent years reading books about the beautiful awkward girl who gets the cute boy. I watched countless movie about the boy who gets the girl, and yet the movie where the girl gets the girl is only out there in small parts. It is always messed up in some sick way. It’s never just girl meets girl, girl falls for girl, girls get together and love happens. It has to be girl is with guy, and now she is with girl. There is always some man in the middle of this love story pulling the lesbian away from her so called life style. There is not a single story out there that is not filled with lesbians pretending to be straight, or thinking that she is straight, before she realizes she isn’t. All I see are movies and shows filled with affairs and anger and these women you hope to be your new hero sleeping with some virile man.

If there is a story where men are not in the middle of it, then it is a crazy story of abuse and horror or some inappropriate relationship between women of vastly different ages. As if the only lesbian relationship that can last is a dysfunctional one. Where is the stories that don’t show these sex crazed girls parading around town sleeping with whoever they can manage to get their hands on? These stories of lesbians turning straight girls for a split second. We are made out to be snakes in the grass waiting for the vulnerable naive straight girl to sink our teeth into.

No wonder the world see’s us like they do. This is how we show ourselves.

I wish as a teen girl I could have seen stories about teen girls falling in love and living a normal life. I wish I could have seen young twenty somethings finding each other and having a normal life, getting married and having children. Maybe then I would have grown up not condemning myself. Maybe I could have gone to sleep at night without wondering if I was ever going to have the type of relationship that I didn’t have to be ashamed of. Maybe I could have been taught not to be ashamed. If only at a young age I could have been told that I didn’t need to act straight, or act like I was something that I just wasn’t. Maybe then I would have been happy, truly happy, not just the act I put on. Maybe then I would not have felt so pressured to act normal.

There may not be some knight in shinning armor waiting to take me away from all my troubles, but who’s to say I am not the knight. Who is to say I am not the one to save the girl? Maybe I could have believed that could have been me, if I had seen it growing up. Instead I spent a life watching pretty girls get saved by strong men, as I stood in the corner hoping one day I could do the saving. That may not be the traditional story, but it is still a good one.

What do I hope to do with my blog? What change would I like to make with it. I hope to give at least one young lesbian hope that the life that everyone else gets to have is in fact within her grasp.



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