I had two best friends during my last couple of years at school. To say they didn’t like each other would be a masterpiece of understatement. Lynzi was my age. The popular girl, soon to be head girl and lead in the school play girl. She had the gorgeous older boyfriend and A’s all the way. Ellie was 2 years younger and lived 5 doors away from me and was incredibly pretty and great to be around.
Turned out they had history. Squabbles that had survived primary school and the early years of secondary. And I took my place between them.
Clearly, even now, I am only just learning to understand what is actually being said when two women confront each other. To the untrained eye, it’s polite, civil, cordial and nothing to worry about. To those in the know, claws are being displayed and fangs bared. Needless to say, I was ignorant of this between Ellie and Lynzi. As I said, sex wasn’t really on the agenda for me; I played sports and distracted myself with other things. But then came a moment when I knew that it was girls that made me blush.
A few people had suggested I might want to get myself over to Lynzi’s form room as it was “all kicking off”. I arrived to find the room empty except for Lynzi in the far corner and Ellie blocking the door. A Mexican stand off was taking place and I was being thoroughly ignored. They snarled and hissed and circled each other and then in an instant words and chairs and slaps and hair went flying. Even once the dust had settled I never knew what started it and was so confused. But eventually, each girl had her set nights that I could see her, Lynzi took Tuesday, Thursday & Saturday and Ellie the rest. Looking back, it’s a memory that makes me smile and my ego puffs its chest out a little bit.
Despite the intensity of these friendships, none of us acknowledged the physical desires that were stirring. There was teasing and punching and slapping and of course, any excuse to wrestle or play fight. Those awkward moments when the desires started to boil and everyone catches themselves and backs away uncomfortably. I started to catch myself gazing admiringly as they removed layers.
Realising that maybe I am that freak? Maybe I do like girls? Thankfully at this point, I’d joined a hockey team and the football team and suddenly my world was flooded with new information about girls who liked girls. Lesbians. And so there it was. The word. Gay. Lesbian. Homosexual. I had a label, a definition but I also knew that the people I knew thought it was a bad thing, something that happened to other people. I breathed a sigh of relief, after all, nothing had really happened, maybe it would just be a phase…
