Guys – my sexuality has nothing to do with you.
I’m out with my mates on Friday night buying a round when the barman says I have a beautiful smile.
“Thanks,” I say. “That’s very kind.”
“No really, you have the most beautiful smile. Where do you live?”
“Erm… London…”
“Can I take you out sometime?”
“Oh, that’s really nice but I’m actually gay.”
“What? No! Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“Just give me one night, that’s all I’m asking for, just one night…”
One night for what? One night for you to feel horribly insecure when I don’t get within a mile of having an orgasm because *newsflash* you’re not a girl? One night for you to selfishly satisfy your own needs whilst I lie there loathing every minute? One night for you to prove what a big man you are by bedding a lesbian? One night for you to not have a clue who I am or how my body works or what I want or need?
I want to say that I’ve given men a thousand nights, men who loved and cherished and understood me, and if they couldn’t change my mind then he doesn’t have a shot in hell. Instead, I stroll off, Pinot in hand, and have a good laugh about it with my mates.
When I tell men I’m gay most of them are completely cool with it, but there’s inevitably a small minority who see my sexuality as a challenge, a turn on, an excuse, a phase or an error. I’ve had guys look at me like I’m a new species that’s recently been unearthed:
LESBIAN FOUND IN SUBURBAN GARDEN. NEIGHBOUR WARNS “WHERE THERE’S ONE, THERE’S MORE.”
I’ve had a work colleague stop speaking to me point blank because I rejected his advances, sulkily declaring that I’m “obviously bi”. I’ve had to physically duck the puckered whisky lips of a man trying to snog me even though I said no and he was well aware of my romantic preferences.
And to a certain extent, I get it, I really do. When you’ve grown up in a world where 99% of women are yours for the asking it must be really hard to see that not only does your cup no longer spilleth over but there’s some cheeky bloody lesbian taking a swig out of it.
But times are changing and the simple fact is: Guys – my sexuality has nothing to do with you. I’m not confused or going through a phase or just “haven’t found the right guy yet”. I can’t be persuaded, charmed, cajoled or reasoned out of who I am. I don’t see you as anything more than my friend/colleague/neighbour/man who gives me alcoholic beverages when I hand over money – and I never will.
So now that’s all cleared up, get out there and find a woman who wants you as much as you want her. And if you meet an awesome woman and she tells you she’s gay – give her my number. Cheers bruv.
