Breckenridge, August 2019

It’s an overcast day, but shards of sunlight still break through patches in the clouds, illuminating the 10 mile range. There are a few patches of snow up towards the tops of the peaks, clinging to the memory of winter. The aspen leaves rustle gently, but it’s calm and quiet. I haven’t seen this view for three months, but it’s still the same. Perhaps a bit less snow on the mountains as there was in April, but that’s about it.

I’ve been back in Colorado for less than a week. In my last 3 days in London, I performed in a show which I produced and directed myself, saw a stunning performance of Midsummer Night’s Dream, teared up while walking across Tower Bridge at nighttime, had a lot of goodbye coffees, made a cherry pie, and tried and failed to not cry on the train to Heathrow. In my last 5 days in Colorado, I’ve seen 2 concerts, played with Legos with a dear friend I haven’t seen properly in ages, started an application to bring my show back to London, felt inconsolably sad, cried rather a lot, gotten a new drivers license, and (as of 10 minutes ago) eaten a slice of my mom’s amazing chocolate chip banana bread. I’m staying busy, to be sure, but it’s been a very difficult adjustment coming back this time. I think it’s a mixture of things, but not having a return flight booked makes London feel more distant than ever.

I’m not good at leaving places where I’ve made myself at home, even if I am returning to the place where I grew up. I think a lot of that has to do with the people I surround myself with. I grow so accustomed to their company that I feel empty when it’s no longer there. I believe I made an Instagram post with the following quote the day before I moved to London in 2017:

“You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of knowing and loving people in more than one place.” -Miriam Adeney.

I don’t think I realized at that moment exactly how much more that quote would mean to me as time has gone on. Some friendships have faded, others have reignited in later years. Some are constant, even if the communication is not. And a few are still quite new, but I already struggle to imagine my future without them in it. These friends are spread all over the globe. Currently, I’m missing the ones I just left in London. But there are so many right here in Colorado who I was devastated to leave back in May. My school friends in LA and New York, my family scattered all over the country, and the people who have drifted to far off places on the globe: they’ve each changed my life and brought me such happiness, and I know when the day comes that I get to see them again, it will have been worth the wait.

I’m crying again while I’m writing this. I’m just rather sappy this week, I suppose. It’s not sadness. Maybe a bit, but more than anything it’s gratitude. It’s hard to say goodbye to people, and it’s hard to think about going months, possibly years before I see them again. But I have been so blessed with the people who have come into my life. My family, cousins, aunts and uncles, my friends from elementary school, high school, and college, from my masters and from work and from various connections and chance encounters. Leaving hurts, but it hurts because of the love, support and kindness I have felt from the people I have known there.

The clouds around the mountains have separated a bit, and now they float lazily in the bright blue sky. When I was growing up, my dad would always tell me to live in the present moment. I’ve always struggled with that, particularly upon reaching transitions in my life. I ponder back to the beautiful memories I’ve had with the people I miss the most, and pry into my imagination to envision future memories to make happen. This never makes time go any faster or slower. It makes me hopeful and fleetingly happy, but it also makes me sad and impatient. So I think I’ll just watch the leaves dance in the wind for a while. And we’ll see what tomorrow brings.

Gurl Bi

I came out to my diary as “bi-curious” in the spring of 2014. I’d always thought women were attractive, but for the first time I actually was crushing on a girl. For me, that was a game changer. I’d convinced myself that sexual attraction didn’t have the same weight as romantic attraction. Really, being merely attracted to women would be enough to for me to call myself “bisexual”. But at that point, I’d been through two years of college in which any girl who referred to herself as bi was slut shamed by both men and women, and was assumed to only be sharing this information to become more attractive to men. The idea that bi girls are really just straight girls that are open to threesomes is a depressing idea that continues the narrative that women are only on earth for the pleasure of men (It doesn’t help that bi men are assumed to be denying their full gayness, so in both bi scenarios, it’s assumed that everyone’s just trying to get with men). It also makes women who are attracted to both men and women feel extremely self conscious about sharing their sexuality with others.

I had a scattered coming out, from the autumn of 2015. By then I’d established that the bicuriosity was in fact a very steady state of bisexuality, but I was afraid to tell people. What I really feared was someone telling me it was just a phase, and not taking me seriously. So I waited, thinking that I only needed to tell people if I got into a relationship with a woman. Because otherwise, it was irrelevant information, right? Wrong. Even if you’re bi and you’re in a heterosexual relationship, you’re still bi. In a gay relationship? Still bi! That sexuality is still part of your identity, even if you’re married, or in no relationship at all. And I realized that, after about a year of trying to pretend it was just a small, hideable part of who I was. I told my closest friends. I told my family. My dad’s response made me cry, because of how sweet it was. He told me he’d read some articles to understand a bit more about bisexuality, and it made perfect sense to him, and he loved me very much. And that’s all I ever needed to hear. I never came out on social media, not explicitly anyway. There was a time where I thought I would, but after several years of going to Pride, obsessing over drag queens, and lots of doing theatre, I suppose I assumed people could take a hint. I tell people who I meet, when it is relevant or if it arises. I no longer fear sharing it. It is a part of who I am, and I want the people I care about to know that part of me too.

Being bi is difficult. Being anywhere on the LGBTQIA spectrum is hard, but let’s just focus on the bi experience for a bit. I’ve dated primarily men. That’s not to say I’m more interested in men than women, I’ve just had a vast quantity more opportunities to date in the hetero department. In my late college years in Colorado, and even in London, the queer scene is very much catered to the gay male. The big clubs you go to are never filled with stunning Ruby Rose lookalikes, but gay men of all shapes and sizes, and occasionally their heterosexual girl friends. The queer club nights I’m used to attending are filled with people who have no interest in me sexually, so it is a rather limited dating scene. There aren’t many club spaces aimed at women in Colorado or in London. There’s a few, but they’re not usually the clubs that the entire friend group wants to go to on a Saturday night, nor would I want to go alone. So it wasn’t until fairly recently that I was introduced to these types of spaces. About a year ago, I went to an event called Aphrodykie with a few girl friends of mine. It’s a club night which is put on every few months, aimed at lesbian women. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The girl to guy ratio was 8-1, maybe more. Everyone was dancing like no one was watching, but still being respectful of other people’s space. The tunes were completely lit, and so very queer. I was surrounded by women who were also interested in women. And that was a sensation I’d never felt before. It was a bit intimidating. But I did enjoy it.

It’s a little difficult for me to gauge women, in a romantic sense, as I’m already quite friendly, flirtatious and cuddly with my platonic girlfriends. And many women are as well. So I worry that trying those same methods on a female crush will simply result in a close friendship, and my actual feelings won’t be translated through my actions. I definitely am not a master of the flirting game, for either teams, but I can read men better. Which is why I have much more dating experience on that side. Not that I’m opposed to that. I love men. A lot of them are quite great. But I’ve also been hurt by many of them. By their ignorance, their lack of empathy, their desire for something better than me, and their nonchalance at my pain. I suppose good and bad will both come in any type of relationship, but sometimes I think I would be so happy with a relationship where I could communicate as clearly and express myself as freely as I can with so many of my female friends.

Threesome requests. Now, this topic must be addressed. There is many a young, hopeful, and depressingly ignorant and unsympathetic young man who has requested a bisexual girl for a threesome. I’ve had several. I’ve also seen many sexual implications or jokes made by men when I exchange flirty banter with another female, even if it’s just as friends. It’s difficult, when the porn industry puts into young men’s heads that bisexual women must also be into group sex, specifically that with another girl. It’s a fantasy for many men, and encountering a woman who’s interested in both sexes might seem like an unmissable opportunity to get something they’ve always wanted. But boys, stop making it about you. There is a very very strong chance she is not currently pondering which of her hot friends to call and invite to your house. When girls imagine intimate time with another woman, it may involve some sex. But it also might include eating pasta while binge watching Sherlock, then talking about our feelings for an hour while cuddling, then falling asleep to the sweet sounds of Norah Jones (that’s what I envision anyway, but don’t let me speak for the masses). And that vision most likely does not include you, valiantly ticking “have a threesome with two girls because no homo” off your bucket list. It’s unfortunate that men have been taught by society that they have a right to expect sexual favors from a woman, simply because of her sexual orientation. So boys, cut that shit out.

London Pride is a few days away, and I plan on celebrating with some close friends, wearing something obnoxious and colorful, and dancing for at least 90% of the day. I’ve been to quite a few Prides now, most of them being in London. It’s always an amazing party, usually resulting in a bad sunburn and a raging hangover, but plenty of great memories and fabulous photos. It’s a different experience wherever in the world you celebrate it. I love Pride, and I love what it means to our entire community. We wear what we want and dance and smile and feel the joy that happens when we are our most authentic selves. It’s about more than that though. True, we are out here dressed in our most gag-worthy attire, feeling like absolute queens. But Pride is also a time to remember what LGBTQIA people all over the world have fought against in the past, and the rights we are still fighting for today. We can celebrate, sure, but we also must keep fighting against the prejudices that still exist, some even within the queer community itself. Be kind, be understanding, and don’t assume someone’s story based on what they look like, how passable they are, or what you think they believe. Everyone’s story deserves to be heard. Though I must say, people are often more inclined to listen when that story is presented in every color of the rainbow (and backed by Whitney Houston’s ‘So Emotional.’)

Well, I’m out. Bi.

50 First Swipes

I met him outside the CU campus science museum. It was 7:45 in the morning. I don’t know why I agreed to this. I had rehearsal every night that week, so this was the only bit of spare time I had to go on a date: Friday before my 9:30 class. He suggested it, and I somehow decided that a stranger I had been talking to for 3 days on Coffee Meets Bagel was worth sacrificing an extra hour of sleep to meet.

He was quite nice. We grabbed a coffee, then went for a really long walk around campus. We ended up holding hands by the end. We agreed to meet up the following week, in the short break I had between my last Tuesday class and rehearsal. We got a drink from a nearby bar. He said he was reading Modern Romance by Aziz Ansari, a book my mom had just recommended to me days before (spooky). We kissed on the steps of the theatre building, and I had to run inside so I wouldn’t be late to my fight call.

It didn’t work out. For many reasons. He fell really hard. He sent me a massive text far more intimate than any I’d ever received. He said “I can’t wait for you to open yourself up to me.” He said that I was a goddess, and he’d put me on a pedestal in his mind. I told him I was extremely uncomfortable and I didn’t want to talk to him again. Might be a bit harsh. We did get along, we had some good conversations, but a few things didn’t feel quite right, and that message was where I drew the line. I didn’t want to be on a pedestal. I didn’t want to feel pressure to open myself up to someone. I just wanted it to happen, naturally.

I’ve been single for 6 and a half years now, and I drop in and out of dating apps. I’m not always in a state of seeking out a potential mate (#animalplanet), as I’m often too busy to think too much about it. Still, I know the symptoms of loneliness extremely well. I’m fortunate to have many wonderful friends who I can go out with, confide in, or rely on for distraction, making it easy to not feel as though something is missing. But the loneliness still comes, usually in waves. Most often it’s fleeting and goes away after a fun night of dancing or with the purchase of a new Fenti highlighter. But when it lingers… There’s an app for that.

Dating apps aren’t all winners. Nah, I take that back. All dating apps have the potential to be winners, but it is heavily dependent on wether or not you are meeting the 6% of people on this app who are 1) Not catfish, 2) Interested in dating and not just a picture of your boobs, 3) Not in a relationship already, 4) Actually going to message you back, 5) Willing to go on a date with you, 6) Easygoing and friendly on said date and 6) Not going on this date simply to lure you into their home, skin you alive, and hang you above their fireplace. It’s a risk. Even if everything in the situation is completely safe and good, there still is the risk that you won’t jive with this person. Then you’ve gone and wasted a perfectly good evening and 20 quid on cocktails that didn’t even get you laid. What if the next time isn’t successful either? Or the time after that? It’s easy to get disheartened and call it quits, when you’re going through all the stress and strain of dating with none of the rewards. The messaging alone can be enough to throw in the towel. The most frequent message is “Hey”, followed by “what’s up?”, neither of which usually lead to a deep or compelling conversation. Sometimes it progresses from that, but doesn’t always end in someone asking the other person out. Often, it’s just another rabbit hole of misogyny you didn’t know you were falling down until it’s too late. See below.

I had an odd encounter a few weeks back. I was chatting with this guy; let’s just call him James. James messages me something about one of my photos, which was taken in Oxford, saying “You’re at my school!” I made some clever reply about him needing to avoid all the basics taking instagram photos on his campus. He responded, and we had a little chat going. He was nice, asked a lot of questions, made some jokes. Important detail: he was really hot. Like, hot to the point where I get skeptical. Muscular, white teeth, well built, cast-able as a frat guy in a film. Usually these are the sorts of guys who’ll message “you up?” in the wee hours of the morning, so I was a bit taken aback by this extended conversation we had going. Now this isn’t a self criticism, but in my experience, guys who fit the social media standard of “ideal male attractiveness” go for women who could be classified under “ideal female attractiveness”. Basically- not me. This isn’t a self criticism, just an acknowledgment that I have short hair, no thigh gap, and dress like a mom 80% of the time (but, like, a cool mom). Now, this is a deeper conversation, because beauty is a construct and every type of body and style is beautiful, and I know that I’m hot as fuck HOWEVER based on my experience, men who present themselves in a certain way, who try to fit this standard of attractiveness, are not interested in anything more than sex, particularly from me. And that’s fine, live your best life. So when our dear friend James messaged me asking if I had any free time this week, I was surprised. Also flattered, excited, and hopeful. I told him when I was free… then didn’t hear back for 2 days.

When he finally responded, he said “I was going to see if you wanted a drink, but my schedule got busy the rest of this week, and I’m actually not going to have much free time for the rest of the month, but I’m open to other things though.” ….. Hm. I responded with: “Other things? That could cover a whole number of areas” to which he replied, “Just less time consuming stuff is what I meant.” ALRIGHT LOOK HERE CHAMP (actually here’s a list of things because I need to break this shit down): 1) I don’t know about you, but I can down a pint in like 15 minutes. Getting a drink doesn’t take that long. 2) If you’re referring to something sexual as what you might have time for… I’m not interested if it’s only going to take as long as it takes to get a drink. You’re implying that sex/something intimate will take less time than consuming a beverage, and somehow that’s meant to entice me? In whatever idea of sex you have in your head, you seem to have no interest in taking time to please me, clearly don’t have time to get to know me, and yet still don’t have the balls to tell me that directly. Hmm. 3) If I were to be down to have hookup with you, I still would want to meet you in a public place or something first, so a drink would probably still happen. Most girls won’t just come over to your place having never met you. Safety > that D. 4) I have no issue with you not wanting anything serious. That’s fine. Just be straight with me, dude. Tell me what you want. Don’t vaguely skirt around the situation, or else I might do something crazy like assume that you can only last 2 minutes, then post that assumption on the internet… oops. Anywho, I responded, “Less time consuming… soo shots instead of drinks?” and he deleted me. Nice work James, you’re a true ladykiller.

Once you actually get to a date, the hard work is pretty much over. You don’t have to play mind games and overthink messages, you just have to get to know someone, and hope you have a moderately ok evening. They may not all be great nights out. You probably won’t hit the bullseye on your first attempt. Do the rewards come? Maybe. I’m not totally sure, as I’m still single over here. But I’ve had some wonderful dates. I’ve met some great people. Some of them I kept seeing for a while. Others it was just one time. But there are some gems out there. It just takes one person, someone funny and sweet, maybe a little nervous and awkward, to remind you that there are people out there who are just looking for someone to spend time with. Someone that makes them smile. Someone who holds a mirror up to your own situation, and makes you feel a bit less alone. And you owe it to each other to try. To spend an hour in the company of a stranger, without judging them or yourself, and see if you feel a spark. If not, call it a night, split the bill, and get yourself a McDonalds on the way home.

If I can close on anything, if you’re living the single millennial nightmare, you’re not alone. It’s tough and dating apps don’t always offer the immediate relief which you deserve. But be patient. There are people out there who are just looking to make a connection. Give a few people a chance. If it doesn’t work, give yourself a break. Don’t let Auntie Beth’s constant questioning about your dating life pressure you into making hasty decisions or judging yourself. You’re allowed to be single. You’re allowed to take your time. There’s nothing wrong with you for not having settled into a stable relationship yet, even if all your friends are married. So let yourself be selfish, and date people who make you feel good. Make time for the one’s who give you butterflies, who pop into your mind when listening to certain songs, and are just as interested in you as you are in them. And if all that fails, remember that a doughnut, a cup of tea, and your favorite book will never swipe left on you.