A Short Treatise on Women Who Happen To Love Women Who Happen To Be With Men, For Women Who Love Women

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars / Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling (Well, I told you so)

– Chappell Roan, “Good Luck Babe!” (2024)

And I am the idiot with the painted face / In the corner, taking up space / But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved

– Mitski, “Me and My Husband” (2018)

Have you loved a woman? Have you just been loving women and people who are bi, queer, trans, non-binary, genderfluid pan, etc.? Have most if not all of them have illustrious (and likely painful) dating histories of largely, men? And has that gotten you down and desolate?

If your answer to all these questions above are “yes”, then perhaps reading this little bullet point essay might have you not feel too alone in all this. Yours truly basically fits the bill for all the question yours truly has posed above. I was recently reminded (thanks Rosie-rose!) of the legendary document titled “Am I a Lesbian?” written by Tumblr extraordinaire Angeli Luz, and re-reading it led me to think of the origins of the term ‘incel’, coined by a queer Canadian woman named Alena on her blog in 1997, to describe and make space for women who suffer from loneliness, given difficulty finding romantic and sexual partners.

Thinking of both made me realize that, perhaps there a connection between the two. Both came from different parts of the blogosphere and periods of internet history, but compulsory heterosexuality as we understand it in reality, can be a source of body-breaking pain, hysteria, and yes, loneliness for those involved. I have thought of my own experiences with loneliness (you know what? I will link the first thing that came to my mind typing that phrase). I never really had a long-term partner of any sort. I could never flutter to a partner to break up later and then flutter to another partner. Loneliness has been a staple in my personal life, like how bread and rice and noodles and other delicious carbohydrates have been, albeit loneliness is crushing, and not as tasty. I have been attracted to, and loved many women and peoples in my life. But I would be bare-faced lying to say it has not been an immense struggle. For some reason, some of us are placed in this universe to fall constantly for women who happen to just be with a man (or men) at the critical hour of falling and getting down bad.

And it is not as if they are not interested in women. Above I have posed the questions in the context of bisexual and queer and pansexual people who can be cis women, trans women, and non-binary peoples (to be clear, I am referring to non-binary people who still regard themselves to be somewhat as, and present as women in various ways to the outside world). But again, these women and peoples happen to be near-constantly dating men and/or wanting to date men, even if it may not necessarily make them happy. For those of us who are somehow attracted to this archetype of people, the knock-on effect of that is the difficulty in even being accepted as a potential love interest or partner. And time does not seem to be in our favor either when our romantic and/or sexual interest(s) flitter quickly from one man to the next. This is to say, there is some descriptive truth to the Chappell Roan lyrics I copypasta’ed above.

I have said enough to articulate my thesis. The rest of this piece shall be a listicle of experiences, as I attempt to take a leaf from Angeli Luz. I want to be absolutely clear that I have no intention to disparage women, especially bisexual and pansexual women, for having genuine desires for men, and that is not welcome in this short treatise. If you might resonate with the experiences and logics I have presented below, it will also help me feel a little less lonely and alienated in my frustrations, yearnings, and desolation. So here goes:

  • First and foremost, whenever you approach other women who have dated men to talk about this issue, many might attempt to rationalize to you something along the lines of “men are easy” or “men are convenient” (to date, to get together with). Men are apparently easier in the sense that many of them who date lack any emotional capacities for relating to people in general, and any woman that gets together with such a man immediately shifts into a clearly defined relational role where they (simply, or not) have to take care of this person, and that is straightforward for women. On the converse, if it is a relationship with another woman, they will tell you that the stakes in being with a woman are much higher. Some have said it is like looking in a mirror at yourself, contending with all the internal and external violence and complexities of living as a woman. Some feel like they are not deserving of women who might equally contain a massive amount of emotional interiority. All that makes dating another woman increasingly complicated and far more nuanced, and thus, less convenient in a way. And as a person that does not quite understand what it means to be attracted to men like that, it confuses you because the choice seems so clear even when the argument is presented as so
  • You may have wondered quite often what is it like for your desired interest(s) to want a man, even if in questionable taste
  • You may have attempted to, along your desired interest(s), and along with the men-wanting collective consciousness and body of women in society, to try your best to find some archetype of man to like, even if you have no real interest or desire in men
  • You may have tried at times to recall the instances in which you may have had romantic or sexual encounters with men, violent or tender, just to try to (re-)insert yourself into the shoes of your desired interest(s), in figuring out what makes their desire for men so seemingly thick
  • You may have tried to emphasize or adopt what society and/or your desired interest(s) regard as attractive or desirable masculine qualities
  • In one of the worst case scenarios of your coping and wrangling, you have wondered and entertained the fantasy of transitioning into a man, such that perhaps your desired interest(s) could have more interest in you as an actual potential romantic and/or sexual partner
    • The trans woman variant of this is far worse: you have entertained the fantasy of detransitioning into a so-called man, just so that perhaps in that warped logic, your desired interest(s) could have more interest in you as an actual potential romantic and/or sexual partner
  • Sometimes when you talk about this issue with others, many might suggest to you to refocus your desires into a different dating pool, the most dominant option being cis lesbians who actually are primarily interested in women. You may have replied that you have not had much luck with cis lesbians, or that you are just not attracted to cis lesbians for some reason, or that cis lesbians are not attracted to you
    • This may be more commonly the case for trans women, whose circles might be predominantly other trans people and queer and non-binary people, or perhaps straight and/or gay men, or a mix. There is the real issue of trans-averse or trans-hating cis lesbians, and also the issue of a cis lesbian culture that is not something that trans women might be able to relate to or feel at home in
  • You may have noticed how frequent your desired interest(s) waxes lyrical about women and the strengths and all the good things about women, while also noticing their history of dating almost, if not all, of cis heterosexual men
  • You may also have noticed how when your desired interest(s) speaks about their boyfriend or current male partner, in contrast to the waxing lyrical about women, that they do not have anything, or much to say of the strengths and good things about their boyfriend or current male partner. They will state largely and a matter-of-factly, that yes, they have a boyfriend
    • Or perhaps, they might do the strange heterosexual thing where they will lambast the flaws of their partner while trying to also fawn over them in some manner. Maybe
  • Again, you may have noticed how quickly your desired interest(s) moves from dating one man to another, before you can even raise with them the possibility of dating seriously
  • You may have wrangled with feeling like you are being unfair to your love interest(s) in thinking of any or all of the points here with regards to them. The line of logic goes like this: if they do in fact desire men in some manner as bisexual or pansexual etc. people, therefore I do not have any right or standing to be frustrated about this
  • You may have noticed how your desired interest(s) has been propositioned or asked out by other women, but almost if not none of it ever materializes into reality. If you do manage to ask them about this, they might have said how shy, or signal how terrified or apprehensive they were at that prospect, even if it sounded like they actually really wanted to get into it. The Mitski lyrics above are probably… relevant…
  • You may have noticed that your desired interest(s) tends to go for men who are “softer” or more feminine than their other societal counterparts. Which is to say, they tend to go for men who exhibit greater emotional capacities and care akin to the average woman, in our present period of history and of our society. Or they might tend to go for “men” who may actually be egg-ish trans women
  • You have tried to examine the boyfriend or male partner of your desired interest(s), and have wondered whether you might be lacking in any of his apparent qualities, or you might ponder upon what qualities (or lack thereof) he has that attracted your desired interest towards him at all
  • You may have tried to place yourself in the position of the men-wanting collective consciousness and body of other women in society, to try and place yourself in the shoes of your desired interest(s), in order to figure out and emphatize with them how this man is objectively desirable and/or attractive
    • Which also implies giving your desired interest(s) the benefit without doubt (and in consequence, the male partner) that you agree that this man has desirable qualities, even if you genuinely are not drawn to it yourself, or have actual attraction towards those qualities. You raise the bar for men momentarily in this context
  • I quote directly from “Am I A Lesbian?”: “You think you have to learn how to love men.” So you do try your best to start, in whatever desperate manner, to explore relationships with men, even if you might not be so drawn to them, even if you might not actually want them or their romantic and/or sexual company. The logic being: if your desired interest(s) can want to be with men, perhaps there is something about men that makes them truly attractive or thick in an objective manner, and you are boo-boo-the-fool for not partaking in this men-wanting collective consciousness and body of women in society. Or perhaps that you feel that something is wrong with you
  • This is where I reach the fatal (delusion! coping!) logic that bridges the themes in Alena and Angeli Luz: maybe you are becoming some kind of involuntary celibate in your struggle with loving women who happen to be with men. You may fall into a strange and near-fatal compulsory heterosexual mode in response to the possible compulsory heterosexual behavior of your desired interest(s), and you may begin to firmly believe that you are cursed to fall for women who happen to be with men, and you feel forced into a position where you have to explore relationships with men only in response to that apparent curse, and you may also feel like an absolute failure of a lesbian/sapphic/dyke. You may have even renounced being lesbian and gay due to that struggle and seeming impossibility to be with your desired interest(s)

I think that is about it for now. Again, these points are non-exhaustive, and you may relate to any one or a few of them. These point could be highly subjective and not relatable either. If anything, I find the importance of some of these experiences of mine have to be expressed into a public forum, where there will always be the possibility of another having experienced along similar or parallel lines of logics and copes and desires. Or even then, for another to have the agency to pick and choose what resonates and what does not.

I wish all of you having read this far all the peace, love, care, and the utmost safety this universe can offer.

12/06/2019

This is what Hauntology does: the endless consumption of remakes and reboots even after your biological death. In ‘BR: 2049’, we see holographic renditions of Elvis Presley – who’s to say in 30 years you won’t be presented the option to consume commercial facades of David Bowie, Mariya Takeuchi, or Keanu Reeves. Every generation had, has, and will have an ‘Aladdin’, a ‘Frozen’, a ‘Lion King’, in exploitative tradition. The next generation will internalize the same media as personality, have collective memories of a magical past, where all there was were similar conditions of wage-labor and replicative production. In this, the nostalgia economy runs efficient, haunting each generation for their productive energies; a ghostly Soma that distracts from the rise of collective class consciousness, alike how a B-grade Horror flick uses jumpscares to evade a shell of a plot.

Gangsa Is Raining

(with apologies to Iain Lim’s ‘There’s A Fire In Bangkit’)

Afternoon there was rain,
but without a space for grammar.

Does grammar require space?
The kind between fonts,
an interstellar whiteness.

“Isthisanongrammar,
isthisanonstanza.”

Ser-ifs and sans are the same.
Like how rain is a tick-er, the trans-it-ions of
a puddle sentence, into a puddle stanza.

Who writes Gangsa without a name?
Who writes without a space?

“Torrentingrain,
torrentofrefrain,
torrentwithoutsiderestrain.”

She was Never Able to Drink Tea

(after N. Wang’s ‘She Never Drinks Her Tea’)

Her house is personal in a way her Father
freeloads upon, paying rent by accusations.
She cannot hear her own footsteps over the
din, being unwelcome in her own house is
a swelling of feet, lights that refuse to work,
lao hua* glasses on a 20/20 past, one where
the tidiest living room has a worn-out tile
with edges that she cannot vacuum out,
where her calloused feet steps on blame
where a divorce must be a woman’s fault.
A headache upon trigger-happy migranes,
triggered by happy things from chocolate to ice.
For which, she was always brewing drinks
that were never her cup of tea. Drinks scalding
like a hot shower routine where she boils soap.
He was the pot that called her a black kettle;
The only black she sees is when sleeping it off,
dozing in bed with a Korean soap on an iPad
that distracts a scalding mouth, since tea
keeps her calm and awake in a nightmare.

 

*lao hua (“老花” in mandarin Chinese): Presbyopia

Word Vomit Challenge 2018: 290118

25550250_224480518099677_2390015036038736774_n

 

January 64th. The stubble on my chin has been growing for T minus one

decade. February still has 45 days in a month where strangers want my hair

shortened to compensate for the long days; Every second given is a hormonal pill

losing effectiveness. Every day a wedding dress tears if I wore it in my head. Every

day marriage to me is eating fast food and passing it out without gaining nutrients. Every

day love becomes a beer that hammers me into blacking out from all that pain. One day

I might wash my skin out once I am done with clearing my makeup. On the 89th

I stare at this laptop screen. By the 93rd day of the week I am bingeing on illusions of

myself dragging my limp figure from the shore, squeezing every acupoint with salvaged warmth.