By Barb Rowlandson

In 2017, I joined the Alphabet Mafia, and let me tell you: flipping from the straight world into the Queer world is WILD.

Up until my gay reckoning, I’d been with the same man for 24 years.

My straight life went pretty much like this:

  • Wake up
  • Take care of kids and chores
  • Go to work
  • More taking care of kids and chores
  • Sublimate feelings of intense sexual dissatisfaction with any number of crafts, projects, and friend outings
  • Lie in bed next to my snoring husband, horny as hell but not wanting sex with him. Instead, I’d dive into a rich fantasy world, building elaborate sexual story arcs in my mind
  • Wonder why I’m not happy
  • Rinse, lather, repeat

Before my sexual awakening, I walked through the world feeling inexplicably different from the straight people around me. I didn’t quite relate to other straight friends, but I also didn’t understand why. 

Then my life experienced a cataclysmic BOOM, and I fell in love with a friend – a woman friend. I decided it was time to pack up my marriage. Everything changed. My beige life exploded into a rainbow. I discovered what sex was supposed to be like. It was awesome.

Lots of Changes After Coming Out

Life also became weird. Like, super weird.

Suddenly, the people around me changed. Some stopped talking to me altogether. Others looked at me like I’d grown a second head. And some suddenly wanted to get to know me better. Like, a lot better.

When you’re out – and I think this is especially true for people living in small communities – there are straight folks who want to make it REALLY clear that they are ok with your sexuality. They do this weird performative ally thing, letting you know they are ok with you despite – or perhaps, more correctly, because of – your gayness. 

Here’s an example:

I went to a Christmas craft show with my former girlfriend shortly after coming out. One of the vendors, a friendly acquaintance, was very happy to see me. Like, happier than she’d ever been to see me. Ever. She launched into a mini “gay is ok” TED talk, though I did not initiate the subject of sexuality (I was there to buy a Grinch t-shirt, not to talk about my coming out). The cherry on the cake of this exchange was when she said, “it doesn’t matter who we kiss, love is love”, and then proceeded to KISS ME ON THE LIPS. This was, presumably, a demonstration of her allyship, but instead, I left her booth feeling very ‘othered.’ 

See A WHOLE Person — Sexuality is A Part of My Identity

What I’ve described here is one of the more extreme examples of performative allyship I’ve experienced, but it is by no means the only example. I’ve known plenty of people on this lesbian journey of mine who are over-the-top friendly and only interested in stuff surrounding my sexuality. It feels icky to have a friend or acquaintance fixate on my sexuality. While I am out and proud – and my sexual identity is an important part of who I am – I am a whole person.

There are lots of things I can potentially have in common with friends: I love music, I’m a mom, I’m obsessed with growing flowers, I’m a dog lover, and so on. There are many things about me that a potential friend could pick as a point of entry for conversation.

When a friend or acquaintance grabs onto my sexuality as a topic of conversation and won’t let go of that topic, I feel my identity is reduced to one dimension. I don’t love feeling “friend fetishized” because I’m a lesbian. I’m never rude to these people, but I typically do not develop anything more than superficial relationships with them. 

Keeping Those Golden Friendships Who Love Me for ALL of Me

As time marches along, I’ve kept my loyal straight friends. I have friendships with straight people – some of those friendships are decades-long – and those people are gold because they love me for me.

Most new friends are part of the LGBTQIA+ community.  In the company of other Queer peeps, I feel normal. With LGBTQIA+ friends, I can talk about regular life stuff – which gas station is cheapest, how to get the dog to stop jumping up on strangers, what I’m going to plant in the garden next summer – just usual, regular, boring human stuff. 

Don’t Put My Gayness at the Front & Center of Every Conversation

Future straight friends – and I hope there will be many of you – if you want to hang with me and my gay ol’ family, then by all means, welcome! My only ask is this: don’t put my gayness at the front and center of every conversation. Let me take the lead on sharing about my coming out later in life, at least until we know each other better.

Chances are that if we’re getting to know each other, I’ll be more inclined to talk about a show I’m binging or something funny my kid said the other day. If you’re good with that (with the possible addition of red wine and snacks), let’s hang out.

Learn more about Barb in her podcast episode with Anne-Marie Zanzal here >