Variety Show. Assortment. Smorgasbord. Potpourri. There are as many types of lesbians out there as there are stars in the sky – no freaking doubt about it. Walking around a two day festival in the city this past weekend brought so many fascinating realities to light that my fingers are forced to type. My brain is whacked with conflicting information freely shared with me from a diverse and wonderful array of woman. Oh man – if Clark Street could talk…..
Where do I begin???? You have the baby dykes jumping over boundaries that were probably never intended to be jumped while elder dykes ponder where to draw the line as they consider why that baby dyke just jumped that boundary and smiled as she leaned into a proposition. You have the not so friendly couples who have been couples since 1978 who judge the singles who are just learning to be single. They judge initially until conversations ensue and similarities are found and what was perceived and unimaginable was suddenly understandable and possible – common ground perhaps?? The lipstick gang sipping their fruity drinks as they smirk at the tattooed punk rockers chugging Cuervo from a pint they pass around the moving circle. The bottle swiftly slides back into the pocket of the skinny one’s skinny jeans. Around the corner is a group of jocks in their baggy shorts and headbands laughing loudly as the big girls with the florescent hair and flannel shirts try and rush past the middle aged lesbian couple pushing their oriental baby boy through the noises of the festival. Interracial lesbians with interracial dogs on rainbow leashes meander in and out of conversations and awkward glances. To the untrained eye this is utter chaos – dissimilation and no home court advantage for these women who yearn for and deserve a community. They are their own worst enemy.
The similarities were so much more evident than the differences in the women I met at MidSommarfest. I walked the streets tossing out cards and buttons promoting a web site that just might be a main street of sorts for a community that has been scattered for so many years. A community that divides itself unconsciously with labels, assumptions and unjustified judgments. A group who find ways to trash each other with glances, off color comments and categorizations that have no reason being tossed in the direction of an innocent bystander. Chicks who are so certain they are so right and their way is the only way to be gay in this world that they totally miss the chance to find some safe haven and stop judging the other chicks on the block.
The ironic and extremely simple thing is that we all just want to be happy. We yearn for contentment in our lives. We all just want to be able to laugh with our friends and girlfriends. We want to be able to walk down the street whispering and holding hands – people watching and not people judging – finding the perfect street fair food to compliment our frosty beverages. We want to have healthy discussions and come to peaceful conclusions. We want to love and be loved in this messed up world we are a part of – and unless we take the chance to embrace our differences and find kindness in the eyes of a stranger – we will never get our self righteous asses to that better place we most certainly deserve.
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About K. Guzman
Kathy grew up all over the US - lots of east coast time. She is a surfer girl with an unabridged curiosity. A woman whose mid life awakening continues to bring her to the place she was meant to be. Her degree in Journalism/Creative Writing from the University of Central Florida is being yanked from the archives and put to good use. Her two kids are grown and rock stars in this wild world – her Harley is ready for some serious summer miles – and her heart remains open to life, women and the possibilities each day brings.