Okay I Admit It: Women Are Hot

ep4_edited audio.mp3

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What does queer mean?

Hello and welcome to episode 4 of Queer Enough Club.

I'm Gretta, or G, and I'm the creator and host.

This episode is going to be particularly close to my heart,

as we're gonna dive into my coming-out story.

But first, our queer definition.

Flipping and pointing landed me on a full page definition, so get ready for a long one.

Definitions are randomly pulled from the Queen's English,

the LGBTQIA+ dictionary of Lingo and colloquial phrases by Chloe O. Davis.

Fem, which is an adjective.

There's a couple of different definitions noted here, so we're gonna look at one first.

Denoting the vast and dynamic representation of feminine characteristics, regardless of gender.

Both Fem and Butch are often paired with adjectives, soft/hard, or high/low as it means of distinction.

See also Butch.

Use case example.

He rocked that Fem vibe crop top. I saw it at H&M last week.

Want more info? Think.

Acting, dressing, or behaving in a traditionally feminine manner.

The second definition is as follows.

In the lesbian community, denoting a queer woman who possesses a feminine appearance and behaviors.

See also High Fem, Lipstick Lesbian.

Use case example. Just because I'm a Fem lesbian and I like to wear heels doesn't mean that I'm less queer than a stud in flannel.

Want more info? Think. The opposite of Butch.

Usage note.

This term originated in the lesbian community.

It has been appropriated by the larger LGBTQIA+ community and mainstream culture.

Did you know? The Oxford English Dictionary Credits by Sexual Poet Lord Byron

liest uses of the word Fem in: 1814

By the mid 20th century, the term was used widely in working class bar culture to level and identify lesbian women.

It became the feminine counterpart to Butch.

By the: 1980

I can remember the first time I noticed a girl's body.

I say noticed and girl intentionally.

I was in fifth grade and I hadn't experienced truly sexual thoughts or feelings yet.

I just knew it was a mixture of I want boobs and I want to look at your boobs.

This was the foreshadow of my life unknowingly smacking me in the face.

As I went into middle school, my attraction for this classmate got more confusing.

Once I was caught by a friend while staring at her chest and I was mortified.

She immediately comforted me with, "It's okay, we all compare."

And that sentence became my mantra.

Oh my god. I was attached to this explanation for years, breathing it to anyone who would listen as I went into this comical like seven year period where I insisted to anyone who would listen that I was actually a straight as a board.

I think of this as my aggressively straight era.

This was the epitome of projection and it lasted into early college.

I made it abundantly clear that I liked boys every chance I could get.

And don't give me wrong. I did like boys.

I do, right? But I really liked love.

I wanted to love and be loved so deep down in my core.

I can just remember sobbing throughout high school wondering why no one wanted to share that with me.

Because of how badly I craved a person, I remember shoving a ten-foot pole in between myself and even the concept of liking girls, furthering my aggressively straight persona.

I was absolutely convinced that if boys in my school thought I might also like girls,

then they would assume I didn't like boys and then really not be interested in me.

So I persisted.

Keep in mind, at this point maybe like 15 years old, I still had to let myself consider another possibility other than aggressively straight.

Every time my mind remotely straight the path, I grabbed that leash and I pulled it back tight.

Being attracted to girls wasn't even an option I toyed with long enough for it to not be an option.

It simply didn't exist to me.

During the last two years of high school, I moved away to an art high school.

You'd think that being in that kind of community would have allowed me to overcome this confusion.

And it did help me grow into myself and find myself. My sexuality stayed locked away.

This was the place though that I did finally get the guts to get a pixie cut.

And this was something that I wanted but was always too terrified to get in my hometown because you know, what if people thought I was gay?

Of course, every time I visited home, I would shout from the rooftops that my pixie cut did not mean I was gay.

And to this day, I still get a memory pop up on Facebook.

It's one of my more popular posts and it said something to the effect of, "I have short hair and I'm straight, it happens."

Having short hair doesn't mean that you're gay.

Of course, this is true, but the level of projection that 17-year-old Greta went through is really endearing.

Now that I'm a little bit older and I'm definitely not straight.

There was this one brief chunk during my aggressively straight era that I let myself contemplate if I, in fact, did like girls.

I don't know if I could forget her, but I can't remember her name.

And shorter, maybe like: 5152

I can still feel the warmth of my stomach when I picture her laughing and the utter confusion that followed.

She had a boyfriend who didn't go to her school and she actually left after one semester.

Aside from excusing the crush with a Pete Wentz quote about how he'll make out with anyone because anything above the waist is fair game, this just got locked away in the box.

After high school, I spent four years in Chicago for college.

Again, you might think that being in this large diversity would allow me to peek inside the damn box, but I could not let go of this stigma that boys would write me off if I liked anybody other than boys.

The bisexual erasure was so real and I just couldn't even consider it as an option.

I erased myself right along with society.

And then I had the dream. I had a really vivid, weird dream.

I do tend to dream pretty intensely every night and I always remember that one I wake up.

And it was really annoying most of the time I didn't feel rested, but about a week from turning 21, I woke up from a sex dream.

And it was a very good sex dream and it involved myself and a woman.

And as I woke up, I was terrified, terrified.

What did it mean? Why did I have that dream? And why did I want to experience it?

It texted my high school best friend and absolutely lost my shit.

And she was like, "Oh my god, just go sleep with a girl."

And keep in mind, this was the same best friend I had who knew me during my not-crush crush in high school.

And I just stared at my phone, closed it, and went to class.

My best friend in Chicago lived a few blocks away and I told her I was having a panic attack all day and could I come over after work.

And she was like, "Yeah, of course."

Oh, yeah. I don't think I can ever forget the terror of sitting on your couch watching you wait while I nervously admitted to like a murder or burglary or something.

And I looked at you and I just said, "I think I might be bisexual."

And you looked at me so confused and said, "Okay, that's okay."

And I immediately started crying. I started sobbing.

And then I started laughing because it really wasn't that bad.

Now that I'd said it out loud, it just wasn't a big deal at all.

And after that, I was bisexual.

I came out to my friends and my sisters and someday I will have to share the hilarious story of my youngest sister outing me to my dad who thought that the big secret was that I was on drugs or pregnant.

And I really embraced it, except even then I didn't.

There were a few weeks when I was convinced I was a lesbian, and that's okay to be a lesbian.

But the idea of being bisexual was so unappealing to me that even knowing I was attracted to women, I still couldn't accept that I was also attracted to men and everybody else in between.

The kicker is that I came to this conclusion because I'd never had good sex with a man which hasn't changed. Thank goodness.

After coming out, I felt very behind.

Coming out at 21 might seem young, but it's late in the way too.

That's the whole point of the podcast. Remember, I didn't consciously know I was queer, my whole life I was hiding it.

And I hadn't figured out my type, I didn't have fantasies, I didn't know very much about the gay community.

I'd spent my entire life curating my ideal man partner, and this made dating as a newly out woman hard.

Not to mention how difficult it is to find a woman, okay, with dating a woman who's never been with a woman.

And I won't get started on that right now.

Honestly, I've even looked hard at myself since creating the show.

Why do I now prefer queer to the term bisexual? Why do I get less pushback if I tell people I'm queer?

Why do I, somewhere deep inside me, not always believe I am queer if I like men too?

Like there's gay Greta and there's straight Greta, and I just feel like an imposter sometimes.

Even though coming out brought a lot of frustration to my life, there were definitely those moments of validation and joy.

Just a few days after telling my world who I was, the most beautiful woman walked into the shoe store where I worked.

It was Doc Martins in Wicker Park.

I stood near the front register and we flirted for close to 45 minutes.

Everybody let us, they could see it. She wasn't from Chicago, but visited whenever she could.

She had beautiful brown curly hair with highlights, glowing brown skin, and the most piercing green eyes.

I never found out her name.

Only a few days earlier, I would have shut it down after five minutes terrified.

It was magical and validating, and to this day holds a really special place in my heart.

Everything since then has been pretty standard.

My white boomer dad comforted me once while I expressed trouble dating that, you know, it's okay if you want to be fully gay.

Dating girls remained impossible online, and I would like to do an episode someday on the stigma of bisexual women

and get-keeping of the queer community as a whole.

I'm nearly 30 and partnered to the most wonderful man who just happens to be his head and an ally.

I've never so much as kissed a girl.

That doesn't make me less queer. That doesn't make me less bisexual.

My partner knows this is something I want to experience before I die, and that is enough for me.

So for now, I'll continue to learn and unlearn and aim to embrace who I am because I really have fucking earned it.

I worked really hard to get to this point of acceptance, even if sometimes I still have my own struggles.

Last call today is a bit nostalgic.

One of the first lesbian films I watched after coming out was Blue is the warmest color.

If you've seen it, you can laugh with me because it's a very sensual film.

I really came out and then jumped right in.

Of course, there is a really powerful storyline.

This is a French film, so based on some stereotypes that might explain at least partially why the director and actors did not shy away from sexuality at all.

The IMDB summary of the film is as follows.

Adele's life is changed when she meets Emma, a young woman with blue hair,

who will allow her to discover desire and to assert herself as a woman as an adult.

In front of others, Adele grows, seeks herself, loses herself, and ultimately finds herself through love and loss.

Honestly, I looked around for what I might consider a better description, but I couldn't find one that satisfied me.

No pun intended.

All I can say is if you like coming of age stories mixed with sexual exploration and freedom,

and you like to cry, give it a shot.

Sources today, obviously the source for the main topic is myself, and then I have linked the IMDB page for blue is the warmest color.

To learn more about myself or the project, head to the website, queerenoughclub.com.

QEC is on Instagram, TikTok, Neptune, and Blue Sky @queerenoughclub, and you can email me directly at hello@queerenoughclub.com.

Lastly, if you like what you heard, please leave a review, and you know, welcome to the club.

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