Friend or foe
"I’ve always been wary of the whole lesbian girl gang – or more specifically, my girlfriend’s lesbian girl gang."
Can we talk about girlfriends for a minute? No, not the woman with a free pass to your knickers. I’m talking about your besties; your squad; your honking, hooting posse of lady loves who’ve got your back come hell or high water.
I love my girls and I couldn’t live without them, but as a woman whose mates are largely straight I’ve always been a little wary of the whole lesbian girl gang – or more specifically, my girlfriend’s lesbian girl gang.
In my head it’s a hot pot of crushes, love-ins and intrigues: the almost-kiss after one too many whiskeys; making sultry what if eyes at one another across a crowded room; sleepy spoons and tickles in a shared bed.
I confessed some of my fears to the Artist and she gave a sheepish chuckle and admitted she’d slept with all of her friends bar one. Call me old fashioned, but I like being able to go out to dinner without knowing the intimate grooming habits of every woman at the table.
Now I’m in love with Blue Eyes my paranoia is really coming into its own. I imagine us holed up in a castle as naked women hurl themselves at the gates and I sit in the throne room stroking my axe and muttering. I begin to wonder in all seriousness whether I can persuade her to live out the rest of her days with a paper bag over her luscious head.
One evening my jealousy starts to simmer after she meets up with an old friend for drinks. I’ve planned a romantic tête à tête for the next day – slow cooking and suspenders – but as her texts get later it’s clear she has no plans for an early night.
The next day she shows up a little worse for wear. She babbles happily about the brilliant evening she’s had the night before, showing me her mate’s gushing messages whilst I sit humiliatingly sans pants, bristling in a silk robe.
At last, I snap:
“Look I’m glad you had such a bloody good time, but why is she saying all this shit about how you’re the light of her life? She obviously fancies you.”
“Baby, don’t be silly. That’s just how she talks; she says that to everyone, I promise. Don’t your mates say stuff like that to you?”
“Yeah but my mates are straight.”
“So? Just because my mates are gay doesn’t mean I fancy them. You know, you really need more lesbian friends.”
“Alright well, why did you send her the love eyes emoji? The love eyes emoji is for when you’re in love.”
“No it’s not, the heart kissing emoji is for when you’re in love, the love eyes emoji is a kind of goofy friendship love.”
I think briefly about how ridiculous this all is and yearn for a simpler time when love was more black and white than 50 shades; a time when I didn’t have to worry that my girlfriend was in love with someone else because of tiny yellow heads.
Later that week I meet up with one of my friends and ask her advice: am I really being so unreasonable? Now that Blue Eyes is with me shouldn’t she be a bit more sensitive to my feelings? Surely there should be boundaries in every friendship – especially ones where there’s the potential for a romantic attachment?
“Erm….I mean, I can sort of understand but to be honest mate I think you just need some more gay friends,” she shrugs.
*waves white flag*
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