A Fresh Start To A New Year…
Ahh, if only things were so easy, eh?
You see, once a New Year has passed, everyone is buzzing about with one thing on their minds. Resolutions. I made the decision a few years ago to end the damning cycle of creating false promises, by not creating any at all. (Well at least I tried)
We can all try, and try as we might, but even I have to admit that something about having to change the way you write the date, and starting back in January, and knowing you have a whole year of seasonal colours (as in nature – not fashion) to look forward to; it just makes me want to think and feel positivity. I want to say to myself – let’s make that change.
I mean, there’s plenty to be made.
But, as much as I hate to admit it; I’m lazy and somewhat apathetic. When it comes to physical changes – y’know, maybe deciding to go for a jog twice a week, and giving up the chocolate biscuits – it’s hard. Really hard in fact. Yet I’m faced with the “Weight Watchers” adverts telling me how I should be living my life, and what I should be striving to achieve. Their false imagery only makes me feel worse. Because what they want me to attain is a long, long, long way off.
So instead of feeling bad about it all, I try not to get pulled in. I want to live a life free from making myself feel bad; and full of making positive changes as and when they are needed or called-upon. This, I have decided is the way forward.
Even so, I still cling onto the romantic idea that with a new year, things will be different. I can move on from the past. I can forget the bad. I can expect to see change in both myself and in others… Does it ever happen though?
What I do want to do though, is something I did last year.
Educators like to think that endlessly scaring their students into exams and revision actually works – I can tell them now, it doesn’t. If anything, it has the opposite effect. By depressing us, you make us lose any enthusiasm we might have otherwise had; and thus it works out worse for all of us. Last year though, my educators decided upon a new tactic – to make us plan a-head.
We had to write a short letter to ourselves, explaining what we had achieved in the past twelves months, and what we aim to achieve in the next twelve months, along with what we want out of life in the long-term.
I wrote in January last year that I wanted to come out. I wanted to embrace the “real me”, and stop hiding behind the wall of blandness and lies I had built around myself.
Upon receiving the letter nine months later; I realised I had gone a long way towards achieving that. I’d gone from being the girl who daren’t even write on her letter “I am a lesbian” to acknowledging it to all of my friends and family.
So this year, I want to try this again; and I also think it should be something that any of you should try to do too.
Acknowledge the positive in you life, and acknowledge the changes you want to make; and cement the ideas and plans you have for yourself in the future. Apart from being a brilliant therapeutic method, when you come to read your letter in many months away from now, you’ll learn something new about yourself.
So in approximately twelve months time – I’ll say next Christmas – I shall update on what my letter said, and how far I have gone towards achieving the goals and personal changes and progress I want to make.
I hope everyone had a good New Year’s Eve – I know mine was good, although only in the sense I had fun. I’m still hopelessly single, and a virgin to lesbian sex. How depressing!
x
Filed under: Life, Me, Sexuality | 5 Comments
Tags: 2010, Anonymous, Blog, Gay, Girl, Lesbian, Life, London, Resolutions, Weight Watchers, Woman
2009
It’s nearing the end of the first decade of this millenium, and what better time now than to reflect on this year (and possibly years gone by).
I started this blog back in July. It was an opportunity to say and vent the feelings, perceptions and stories that I felt I couldn’t share anywhere else. However, London Girl has become a lot more than that.
You see, I thought I would just write and that would be it. I didn’t actually think I would learn from myself, or that I would revisit my old ramblings and gain insight. Yet I have. I’ve actually documented something quite special and powerful here – and at the time I didn’t even realise it.
This however, has been a long time coming. Let’s rewind a few years. 2004/5 – that’s a good year.
I was about fourteen/fifteen, and I became aware that I had feelings for my best friend of the time. She is straight – and I was ashamed. I’d always harboured feelings, and inclinations about my gayness, but I was never, ever comfortable about it. I was always worried and scared – scared that I would be outcasted, that my life would reach a new hell, one far worse than the one I was living in. More importantly, I was scared that one day I would pluck up the courage to do something about this crush I had.
It was at that point where I made a crucial decision – one which it wasn’t until this year that I have been able to begin to reverse. I would cease all communication with this friend. It was easier to not speak to her, and pretend that I hate her, that to maintain such a close friendship whilst not being able to be with her. Thus, for four years I didn’t speak to her.
Following our weird break-up, I maintained my “hetero” appearance. Well, I was crap at it… But I would hesitate and act out dislike when other female friends insisted on groping my arse or boobs (apparently they are gropable!) – in order to portray this fake image of myself. I wouldn’t get drunk in case I revealed something I didn’t want to be let-loose, and I lied to my friends and family.
Then comes 2009. Many have claimed that this year has been terrible; things have happened, or it’s not been as exciting as previous years – and coupled with the economic crisis which currently looms over us, things don’t seem to be improving that much. I would have to disagree though.
This year for me has been a year of great and enourmous change. I started off the year (posting on my public blog) about how I am shrouded in secrecy, and how I never, ever feel at ease. Everything I say and do is just a facade; and I can’t write openly, I can’t express myself because I feel so bottled up. It was a horrible feeling – one which I never want to have to return to. I wasn’t myself – I was a reflection of a distorted image. It was dangerous.
Then I came out. It was a rather slow, and in some ways – painful – experience. It wasn’t painful because anything bad happened as a consequence, but it was painful in that for the first time I felt internally happy. It was painful because I had to break down all of those wall and barriers which for so long harboured my true self – the one that for many years I couldn’t come to accept or admit.
I am however, extremely lucky to know the people I do. They’re a great bunch – and yes I do moan about them – but if it wasn’t for my friends, I don’t honestly think I would be in the position that I am now. Okay, I’m still hopelessly single; but they’ve given me the strength, understanding and freedom to be who I wanted to be. In the past I surrounded myself with the wrong sort. Y’know who I mean – the opinionated, the close-minded, and non-obliging people of the world. Thoroughly heterosexual, and more often than not – right-wing. They were good friends to me, but they weren’t supportive, nor were they open-minded. They couldn’t see past there own view or take on the world – and that only made things worse for me.
I now feel comfortable to be who I am. To be the person who I think as far back as I can remember, I always knew I was. I don’t feel ashamed any more.
Yet, I’ve gained all of this in just eight or nine months.
That is why 2009 has been a good year. Okay, my Summer was all-in-all, rubbish. My AS grades weren’t particularly wonderful either; and things aren’t exactly brilliant with home-life either… But for once I want to celebrate the positives of a year, instead of harnessing on all of the bad.
This year has been so life-changing. I’ve met knew people, I’ve found support, I’ve opened my mind. Even this time last year, if I were to count all of the people who I fancied or liked, it wouldn’t extend beyond five. Now that I am accepting, and more open… Well that number has greatly increased.
I know I still have some way to go. I need to overcome my mind, and I need to embrace who I want – or at least embark on a stronger mission to find someone I can call my own. But I’ve paved the foundations to make this possible. I’m out of the closet, I’m free, and I’m happy. But also, I can see the beauty in life and in people more readily than I previously had done.
So to everyone out there, I wish you a Happy New Year. I hope that this past year has been good for you too, and I wish that you too can focus on the positives that make all of our lives worthwhile. I hope that whatever problems, issues and personal missions you face, that you can overcome them, and learn to accept that our indivuality is the essence of mankind. Embrace who and what you are, and fear not being that person.
x
Filed under: Family, Friends, Life, Love, Me, School, Sexuality | 3 Comments
Tags: 2009, Economy, Family, Female, FormSpring, Gay, Girl, Lesbian, Life, London, Millenum, School, Sexuality, Teen, Year
Yes (wo)Man!
I’ve decided upon something!
After spending the past couple of hours watching Jim Carrey (try to re-live his comic hey-day) in the film “Yes Man”, that the word “no” hasn’t been doing me any favours for me. It’s a word, which as far as I am concerned speaks louder and more often than a large proportion of my mind and body actually wants it to. I’ll give you an example.
Sunday night. Oh yes, Sunday. I don’t like Sunday’s – they have this dead vibe to them. Anywho, this Sunday was slightly more interesting; after joining a friend shopping, I met up with some other friends in the evening (I even got to boycott the predictable Sunday Roast!). After a few hours of chilling and eating chips, it was decided that my friend (I’ll name her Jenny), yes Jenny, would stay round my house.
Jenny I should state now, is the lesbian friend of mine. Y’know, the one with the girlfriend, the one who is the world’s biggest tease… The one who I often dream about.
Jenny’s girlfriend however has gone on a mini-holiday; which I must admit isn’t too much of a bad thing. I was even quite happy that she had gone away, as that oh-so-sneaky part of me rejoiced in glee at the mere prospect of spending time with this girl who for a long time, I’ve wanted!
But you see, that word “no”, and “don’t”, and “think about your girlfriend” got in the way of that.
There we was, not actually doing anything –but before anything could occur my mouth was speaking before I wanted it to. Once again, one tiny portion of my head stomped all over the rest of my body, and tricked me into a harsh denial of the one thing I could have so easily had.
I knew Jenny wasn’t blind to the situation, she was playing to my fragmented mind. My actions (which honestly didn’t extend beyond hugging, and back stroking) and my happiness of feeling her body radiate its heat towards my own (especially in such icy weather) was, not to say the least contradictory to that frightful word “no”. She can see it in my eyes, she says I am a bad liar – I’m not actually, it’s just that when I don’t want to lie, I can’t – and she continued if not more subtly with her flirting.
I’ll spare you the full details, but who the hell says no when a hot, ready girl whispers in your ear “Do you want me to make you wet?”
ME. That’s who.
I’m a fool. An idiot. A complete tosser and loser. I had my chance, and I bloody wasted it, by breaking the rule that I am trying so hard to keep – not to lie. Yet I did it again. I know that Jenny’s girlfriend, if given even half the chance, would jump into bed with anything that offered her the chance to – especially if it were a male. Yet I worry about her reaction, I worry about the consequences.
Fuck consequences, I need to stop worrying about things which I can’t guarantee!
Thus, I need to set about my new mental revolution into writing. From no on, in such situations whereby I find myself eagerly wanting someone, and in situations whereby I can have that person, and they offer themselves on a plate, I shall not lie and say no. I shall endorse what the majority of my person wants, and ignore that tiny, but oh-so-powerful portion of myself which has the innate ability to control and destroy said situations.
I reckon if more people follow with this, we could spark a global revolution!
x
(Oh, and Happy Holidays!)
Filed under: Friends, Life, Love, Me | 1 Comment
Tags: friend, Jim Carrey, Lesbian, Lie, Life, Love, no, People, Sex, stop, Yes Man
The Worst Time of Year
Christmas is a horrible time of year. A Holiday I do not want to celebrate, and a time where I am haunted by previous years, and the pain and sadness that looms over this time.
People often ask me why I don’t like Christmas. The answer I give them is simple – I’m not Christian, I don’t want the presents, I don’t want to feel obliged to buy others presents, I don’t like Turkey and I certainly don’t like having to attend the “family get-togethers” which are synonymous with this time of year.
It’s a well-rehearsed answer, one that I verbalise frequently to avoid the deeper the meaning behind it all. Yet, others still seem to find issue with my dislike. “Oh, everyone likes presents” – actually, no. I would much rather have food, heating, and my Mother not worrying about how to buy presents for my brother and I. – Of course, no one quite understands that.
For years and years, even when I was still of a single-digit-age, I was made aware of the financial perils of Christmas. Okay, it always made me more grateful; but simultaneously it always made me feel guilty. I felt guilty because I knew that the proprietor of the gifts couldn’t afford them, and I knew she always wanted to ensure that I had more – and that made her sad. In recent years, I’ve simply asked for nothing. However, even this wish is turned around at me; I’ll get a few books but I’ll be constantly reminded by her that “I would have gotten you more”. Later on in the day it almost always ends up in tears on her behalf. The guilt is overbearing.
Then there are the haunting memories – Mother’s drunken boyfriends, and Mother herself an inept drunk too. It was an equation for disaster.
There was one particular boyfriend of the Mother, I’ll name him S. S in simple terms was alcoholic beyond reproach. He loved alcohol, but alcohol surely didn’t love him. He was embarrassing, a pounce, and a hopeless cause. Worse, he had a temper.
Alcohol fuelled his worst traits – which were bad enough when he was sober. Although never hit by him myself, I was the one having to protect my Mum. I spent entire nights sometimes, holding them apart, trying to push him out of the house; trying to get the pair of them to sober up and realise how stupid they were being. It never helped.
I remember the first time it occurred. I wasn’t actually in the house – but I was made to feel guilty about it nevertheless. A friend has asked me to sleep round hers, Mother and S had already been arguing on and off all day – both had already started drinking. I wasn’t aware then that he would ever beat a woman up, I was when I returned home the next day.
I stayed round my friend’s house all night, and large proportion of the day – we were watching films or something. I must have returned home at about 4pm. I remember, I went into the kitchen and I saw my Mum’s face – a watercolour of green and purple. Her cheek and eye were all swollen, as was her jaw – instantly I knew.
What do you do in those situations?
My Mother being the fool she is, stayed with him. I threatened to leave, but I didn’t. She wasn’t perfect, I knew that she hit him – no doubt it was retaliation that had gone way too far on his part – but still. She was my Mum, I had an alliance towards her, a duty to protect.
That was one Christmas ruined. She didn’t leave him, in fact he left her (January 11th 2005). The rest of the family weren’t to be made aware of any of their actions, and so Christmas day was celebrated by all as if nothing was the matter. But having to force myself to be around him, after witnessing him punching and kicking her – I hated it. I hated it all – the pretense of Christmas was considered more valuable than the reality of their actions.
The following year, Mother met R. He however timed his beating to New Year ‘Eve. I remember, there I was, sitting in my room (there were no plans with friends that year), with a glass of wine waiting to celebrate the year out. Mother and R had gone to the pub, and they returned at about half-nine. I heard the car doors slam shut (just the normal routine), then shouting and screaming. I ran downstairs, opened the front-door to find my Mother keeled over, lying on the front-garden, with him towering over her and kicking her. She had already been punched in the face – her eye was swelling up. She was crying and screaming, and bearing in mind this all happened out-side of the house, down a quiet road full of other houses – only one person came out to help.
I celebrated the New Year sitting in my neighbour’s house speaking to the police.
Then people have the audacity to question my dislike of this time of year? When, for nearly over half of my life it has been plagued with violence, guilt, drunken family, and money issues.
Filed under: Family, Life, Me | 1 Comment
Tags: Alcoholic, Alcoholism, Christmas, Domestic violence, Family, home, Life, Money, New Year
Being Invisible Isn’t Easy
Last week was an amazing week. For the first time in ages, I felt energetic, happy and at ease with the world. Nothing could dent my mood, nothing could dampen my energy, could change how I was feeling.
Then, it all goes to crap. So much so, I’ve turned into a recluse.
I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I’m severely lacking any desire, want or need to be around anyone at the moment. People, are the cause of all problems. I worked this out a few years ago, that the only person you can ever depend upon is yourself; and in times where I feel like no-one is dependable, the only person I want to be around is me.
But still being in education, still living at home, and still having to adhere to the social norms and expectancies greatly derails my attempts of being alone. I can try all I might, but its hopeless. People are everywhere; be they friends, family, teachers, foe, or random strangers. They are just there, and for once, I just want to be an introvert. I want nothing else than to just sit in a corner and let out whatever emotion is inside of me.
That just can’t be so.
What’s worse is when no-one seems to understand this. I don’t go on MSN for four days, and it’s the end of the world for a friend who couldn’t tell me about how “lonely” she feels, or how something went at work or something. Then I have to hear about it at school, and I try and be polite and make it clear that I want to be on my own, but any act to try and dissolve conversation is thrown-back in my face. Or worse as one boy pronounced to a whole room of other students “She’s on her period!” – No I’m not on my period, I’m not PMS’ing; I merely have things on my mind that I do not wish to share with anyone else. I don’t want to engage in meaningless social interaction, only to pretend I’m things I’m not.
What happens when a male has a bad day, eh? Are they on their periods? Well of course not. So stop using my gender to categorise my feelings; stop making out that all I am is a product of my feminism. I’m not; I’m a human, and no I’m not “fine”, I merely said that to shut you up.
What’s more worrying for me, is not that I’ve relapsed into major introversion, but that I feel on edge all of the time. For example, a couple of days ago I flipped, and it was only my limited self-control that prevented me from hitting someone. I feel all the time that I am about to punch something/someone. How can I be around people if I perceive myself to be this constant threat?
I don’t know what to do anymore. The alcoholic mother never seems to learn, and as much as I try and hope, she can’t seem to make any changes to her behaviour. She doesn’t want to change, and I know it – because if she did, I wouldn’t be feeling like I am now – and she keeps making the same mistakes. They’re not even small things, but life-threatening, bailiff-arriving mistakes. I can’t live like this.
Why can’t I just be invisible?
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What’s Wrong With Me?
Something is wrong.
For the past couple of weeks, all I feel is negativity. I hate being a negative person; I’ve spent far too much of my short life pondering on the bad, to waste any more time on it now. I want to be happy, I should be happy… But I am not.
Everyone around me seems to be a source of displeasure, acrimony and agitation. Even when I finally thought I had found the friend I could confide in during these rare moments of emotional catastrophe; all I want to do is tell her to “fuck off”. I see her name on MSN, or I see her around school, and I fill up with dread.
I thought it might have been due to her own “problems” she had, and her constant dribble about them to me. It was depressing to say the least. To be bombarded with so-called problems, or issues which she herself created, and brought down from temporary moments of happiness, it was frustrating. To hear “I am really sad or hurting right now”, when I’ve just had to endure the far more problematic issues of my Mother and finances, it made me angry. Yet, because she was feeling “down”, I didn’t dare put my problems on to her.
It would appear however, that this recent lapse in social skills, and emotional intelligence has transpired itself to a far greater scale. Everyone is the source of something negative, everyone is person I want to avoid. I have no desire to communicate with anyone, to be spoken to, to be seen, or anything. I want nothing more than to go on walks listening to Mozart, or finding something to read and hermiting myself away on a comfy sofa, in a quiet and unvisited room.
I suppose it doesn’t help either, when my sleep is disrupted too. I’m finding it nigh on impossible to get to my “sleepy place”. Y’know what I am on about, like a scene or scenario that no-matter what, you can place yourself, and whoever else you like there, feel happy and relaxed, and drift of to sleep. My place is impossible to reach, and if I am there, then bad things follow me. My mind is obviously in turmoil, and I don’t know what to do about it.
All in all, it’s producing a worse-off version of myself every single day. I feel distant, troubled and space-out. I feel emotional, but dead at the same time. I feel angry, but passive.
I’m fed up of it all. I’m fed up of having to constantly accept dormant apologies. I’m fed up of having to hear other people’s problems, whilst struggling with my own. I’m fed of only having one parent. I’m fed up of waking up in the morning and knowing that beyond my morning dance around my room, nothing else will make me happy during the day. I’m fed up of not telling people the truth when they should hear it. I’m fed up of being put to blame for every single thing that goes wrong. I’m fed up of being the “dependable one”, of being the daughter of the most dependent person one would ever have the misfortune to meet. I’m fed up of dreaming about the possibilities of meeting my other parent, and what life would be like if I knew him. I’m fed up of the memories, of being the unwanted step-daughter. I’m fed up of Christmas; I’m not a Christian, I don’t want meaningless presents, I don’t want Turkey, I don’t want to pretend to be around family who don’t really like each other. I’m fed up of being set-up by the girl who I want to be with. I’m fed-up of being made to feel guilty whenever I feel either all, some or more of these things, and being in this mood.
I even feel obliged now to apologise for this moan.
x
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Tags: Christmas, Depressed, Family, Friends, Guilt, Life, Problems, Sad, School
I Fear I’ll Turn Into Her
My Mother. Over eighteen years ago, she conceived and gave birth to me (and oh, doesn’t she remind me of that). She’s brought me up, clothed me (for sixteen years – past two years it’s been down to me), fed me (for the most part – but it depends if she’s spent all of her money), and well… Tried to be there.
The truth is, I don’t think she has ever really been there. Her alcoholism is destructive, and it has been since I was about six/seven. I didn’t know it then, but her alcoholism and depression resulted in her cutting. I’ve never told anyone that before.
I found out that nugget of disturbing information about four years ago – also when she was drunk. I’ve never properly reacted to it, but since she made me aware of it, and she made me aware she had scars on her arm, I now cannot help but notice them all the time. In the summer, you see them a lot more. Her dark tan makes the white dead tissue stand out, like trophies in a cabinet.
She told me, it was her drinking and depression that led to that. It was a bad time, she had just divorced my step-father, had several miscarriages, no money and two young kids to look after – all at the age of twenty-five. It’s not an excuse, but it’s a perspective.
That was the mid-nineties. It’s now nearly the end of the noughties and where are we?
Well, she still drinks, and she’s still depressed; and I’m shit scared that one day she’ll go back to cutting again.
Even so, she doesn’t need a blade to stab away at herself or other people, me, to hurt. Oh no, her tongue, her vicious temper, and putrid venom are more than enough to tear herself and other apart.
Her drinking is vile. I hate it, I’ve always hated it. The family hates it, even she Ma Mere, hates it. So why then, has it turned into some form of a joke? Why is it acceptable for a person, a mother, to be allowed to destroy herself, hurt those closest to her, and to waste the little money she has on something which I know will ultimately end up killing her.
Her Doctors, they always ask her, she always lies. When I go with her (which is often), they look at me, and I know that they know, and they can see the same in my eyes.
I’ve tried everything I can think of to get her to stop. Occasionally it’ll work, may be for a week or two; and then the long drunken nights resume. It used to be worse when she would wake up to see me off to school, still drunk, stumbling and swaying around the kitchen, smelling like piss-puddle, slurred speech, and nothing but “You don’t know what it’s like to be me… No money etc etc” – those would be unbearable. I would still have to walk into school and pretend that everything was fine, smile and continue on with the day, but dreading my return. Would she remember what she said?
It was this that put me off drinking. When all of my friends were getting drunk when we were sixteen/seventeen – I would be sober. I couldn’t stand to think of myself to become what she is. I would fear that I would fall into this trap of drinking – my grand mother also spends a large proportion of her time drunk too, and so did her mother etc. I didn’t want to “catch” her alcoholism; I didn’t want to bring myself anywhere near her level.
It took me a long time to realise that I can still drink, have fun, relax and have fun, without turning into her. I was scared that if drunk, I would behave as she does, I would spit words of hatred and disgust, I would hurt everyone around me. I would hurt myself. It scared me.
Then, I got to the point where I had to let myself go. She can’t control me forever, right?
It worked for a few months, but now, after the way I saw her behave, I don’t know anymore. It’s an easy cycle to fall into, and I don’t want to become a victim. I’ve already spent far too much of my life playing that role, hurting, crawling in my own self-pity, wallowing in hatred and anger. I don’t want to return to it. I don’t want there to be an excuse for it.
I tend to see so much of herself in me. We’re two very similar people, both quite reclusive, and stubborn. We keep most things to ourselves, and although we don’t like to admit it, we both put on a false front – everyone must always think we are stronger and better than what we are. We’ll never admit to our insecurities, and we both love power – power makes up for everything else.
It’s a horrible path that I am on, and one that I fear will guide me in the worst possible direction.
I refuse to live in constant fear of myself, but I feel that this is already manifesting. What do I do to stop it?
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Tags: Alcohol, Alcoholic, Alcoholism, Cutting, Life, Mother, Parent, Personal, Self Harm, Teen
It’s this:
When I joined Facebook back in 2006, I filled out the normal sign-up form, and profile questions. I got to the question that asks you to state what gender one is interested in. Three years ago, I was still hesitant, I was still in a cloud of denial, and questioning. I knew what I wanted to answer, but I didn’t know whether I should or not.
I promised myself that after I came out to pretty much everyone now, that I would finally fill in that little section on my profile. “Why do I need to hide, or deny who interests me?” I thought, but every time I came to hover over “Save changes” after ticking the “women” box under “Edit profile”, I couldn’t do it. I clicked the home-page and resumed Status reading.
This week, after three years of denial, of false attempts, after struggling, questioning, denying, lying, and pretending, I’ve achieved the one thing that used to scare me the most.
I’ve told everyone I love women, and it feels amazing!
x
Filed under: Life, Me, Sexuality | Leave a Comment
Tags: 2006, 2009, Coming Out, Denial, Facebook, Female, Girl, Lesbian, Life, Sexuality
Feeling Inferior
Inferiority; knowing you’re not as good, useless, hopeless, and the one who has to pretend that it’s okay. It’s such a horrible feeling, isn’t it?
This feeling of inferiority struck me on Friday night. It had been arranged that some of my friends and I would attend a “Rave” in London. To be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends, but there are some situations I don’t find myself comfortable around them. The idea of being around them, whilst they are drunk and care-free, and I, sensible and sober, it wasn’t one I was holding too high on my agenda.
I had to make the best out of a bad situation… I had already paid for my ticket. There was no backing out now.
I stepped into the club, and instantly felt that it was going to be a night that I wouldn’t want to remember. There was no atmosphere, the music (to put it bluntly), was verging only slightly better than dismal, and the people… Rarely do I ever feel so out-of-place.
Everyone was so young! Granted, it was a 16+ event (I would much rather go out to a proper club night, but none of my friends are of age yet). Okay, it’s only a two-year difference, but still. There’s such a difference, and one I cannot stand to be stuck in.
That wasn’t the worst bit though. The worst thing about the people, was that it was 99% heterosexuals. Never, have I felt so insecure around a collection of straight people. I’m not a particularly “up-front” person as it is, but simply just trying to “find” someone when you’re stuck in “Straight-land”, is utterly horrible. It’s near impossible to tell who is and who isn’t gay as it is; but when pretty much every single other girl (other than myself) seems to be getting off with a boy (they’re sixteen, they still are only boys), it’s unnerving.
That’s not to say I don’t like heterosexuals, but it’s an odd place to find yourself in. All the boys know that they can go and snog, or grope pretty much all of the girls there, and all the girls know they can do pretty much the same with boys, and I’m just there thinking “When is it going to be my turn?!?!” – that’s unnerving.
What I think really made a bad night worse, was having a friend (who is bisexual), playing the “Number Game”.
Yeah, I didn’t know what it was until Friday either. A game whereby a group of friends try and snog as many people as possible on the night.
No, I didn’t join in.
But… I did have to hear a running commentary on how many people my bisexual friend had snogged. Sometimes I was even taken as a witness – the last thing I really want to see is her and her tongue shoved down a spotty-faced adolescent boy.
It gets better though, once she had found a girl, right in the middle of one of my favourite songs, she took hold of me, stopped me dancing, and shouted in my ear that she had got with a girl.
FUCK YOU! (Is what I thought)
Apart from the fact that I don’t care about her crappy game, more importantly, I don’t need it shouted in my ear that once again she’s managed to “pull” or whatever, and I haven’t. Seriously, why does she think I need more reminding about how shit and desolate my love life is, without her making it worse.
In all, I think there was about fifteen-hundred people there that night, and I have never felt so lonely in my life.
I literally spent seven hours, dancing, or at least trying to dance to the crap that was being pumped out of the speakers, hoping that no-one would ask me if I was enjoying myself… For I feared that the reaction would spark some sort of emotional break-down.
The only person there who bothered speaking to me (beyond my group of friends), was the gay man behind the bar. Maybe he sensed how lost I must’ve felt in such a bizarre environment.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if I had been able to take myself out-side, sit and ponder to myself for a bit. Away from the people, away from the crap music, away from her. But I couldn’t, once you went outside, it was a no return policy. And seeing as I was stuck in the middle of London, at half three in the morning, with no knowledge on how to get home, it was a dead-end situation.
So now I make a promise to myself:
“I shall never go out to one of those stupid raves, I will only go to proper nightclubs (and if possible gay clubs), and in the event of “her” informing me of crap whilst I’m trying to make the best out of terrible situation, that I have no need, or desire to know, she’ll be told to fuck off imminently.”
My life honestly has to get better than this!
x
Filed under: Friends, Life, Me, Sexuality | Leave a Comment
Tags: Bisexual, Clubbing, Friends, Heterosexual, Inferior, Lesbian, LondonGirl, Music, Night Club, People, Rave, Raving
I Feel Nervous.
Tomorrow I’m going to see that woman I’ve loved for years. Big deal, I see her most days… Yet for some reason, I actually feel nervous.
It’s a weird, and strange feeling. I mean, I’m not too much of a nervous person – awkward, yes – but I like to think of myself as fairly composed. I speak to her often, and I’m around her often; but the fact I feel nervous, is making me feel even more unnerved.
I think it might be because I fear that she might find out about my love for her. I fear that she can read me, or someone else might make a comment – and that will really leave me in the shit. I cannot honestly imagine anything more embarrassing, or horrible than her knowing – which I know sounds completely weird… But it would be so terribly awkward.
There are just somethings that you don’t want another person to know about – and this has to be one of them.
I’m hoping I have nothing to be nervous about, but the possibility of something going against my favour is greater than I dare to think about. And if other people can randomly pick up that I have a thing for her, or as one girl put it “You’re in love with her”, then surely she must’ve picked up the same vibe too.
Not that I want to sound perverted either, but I hope she hasn’t ever caught me staring at her. I don’t believe she has, but God, she would think I am some sex-craved weirdo.
I think I am just going to try and hope for the best. If it does go all tits-up, then I’ll have to think of a plan. But yes, positivity is the key (as I like to say), and so yes, tomorrow WILL BE FINE!
Hopefully.
x
Filed under: Life, Love, School, Sexuality | Leave a Comment
Tags: Lesbian, Love
