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I’m a straight guy, but I consider myself a proud LGBTQ+ ally. I think it’s okay for girls to kiss each other, and even more than that, I think it should be encouraged. When I see two girls swapping spit on my computer screen, I don’t shame them for sharing their love. They were born that way.
I try not to hold the LGBTQ+ community to a higher standard than the rest of us. I won’t fault a lesbian if her T-shirt is wet. In fact, I prefer it. You might be thinking, “Isn’t it weird if anyone’s T-shirt is wet?” and to that I would reply, “That’s a normative judgment.” If a lesbian has forgotten her pants at home, I won’t make fun of her, because I don’t want her to notice her mistake and locate her pants. I also try not to center myself in queer spaces. When I’m in a gay bar, I don’t spend a lot of time commenting on how “cute” and “different” it is. Instead, I watch from a safe distance through my Nikon Trailblazer Binoculars.
I also try to be a positive influence on those around me. When girls want me to “answer a question” or “hold the elevator door” or “give them a raise,” I’ll make them kiss each other to make sure my resources aren’t going to someone suffering from internalized homophobia. Just because you are a member of a marginalized group doesn’t mean you can’t harm other members of your community.
As an ally, I try to hold space for all types of queer women. I support curious friends experimenting with each other. I uplift lesbian stepsisters who better not get caught by their dad. I respect lesbian masseuses who can’t help mixing business with pleasure. I honor the union of babysitters and MILFs. I elevate tiny teens dominated by tall busty redheads. And while we’re at it, I recognize teachers-who-are-also-dominatrixes’ intersectional identity.
However, I will admit that I still have work to do. This year I went to Pride and was alarmed to discover that some of the women had short hair. This was repulsive to me, and I have to admit I did not want to see them kissing. Luckily, I quickly overcame my prejudice by reminding myself that even short-haired women have breasts. As I subtly touched their lower backs, as I smelled their hair, as I thought about them while riding home on my Razor scooter, I remembered that one of the most important parts of being an ally is confronting your own existing biases.
I know I am still far from perfect. But I’ll keep putting in the work, Googling terms I don’t fully grasp like “femdom.” And at the end of the day, I believe that all people, regardless of sexual orientation, should be treated with dignity and respect, as long as they’re female, thin, horny, and lubed up.
I’m also getting really into self-love.