# 10 Things I Miss About Being Straight



## ejrosetta (Aug 4, 2014)

Once upon a time, I was straight. Well, not really. But I did a pretty good impression for a few years before girls got the better of me, and I wouldn’t change back for the world. 

But even when practising Pride and advocating Living A True Life, there are a few things I have to admit I miss. My best friend is straight, and watching her have the upper hand in certain areas serves as a constant reminder of what I’m missing out on. Overall, I think I have the better end of the deal, but there are some advantages I would have kept if I could...

1. The Boob Advantage

Men love tits. That’s as old as time. And, obviously, so do some women. My friend reports that she can get her boyfriend to clean/collect/complete any task just by showing off  “The Girls” but I don’t think I’d get away with that. Lesbians have their own tits, after all. Me pressing myself up against a girl and looking doe-eyed while asking them a favour would make me look like a self important ass. And then what’s with dating a woman with bigger ones than you? Instant Napoleon complex. Definitely miss having the Boob advantage. Rubbish.

2. Not Playing Sports

No one sent me the memo about not being allowed to be gay and un-athletic. But every time I tell someone I’m a lesbian, I always end up with my conversational partner swaying towards the topic of sports. And when I look confused? They’re shocked. Surely I play baseball or softball or football, at least? I mean when I changed teams, I thought my days of playing with balls were over. No? It seems as though, just as every British person should enjoy tea, every lesbian is expected to play some form of sport. Which I don’t. I mean, I can barely climb the stairs without tripping myself up on *actually nothing* and my balance and hand-eye co-ordination is non existent. Me playing hockey is just a quick way to get a concussion. Not happening. 

3. Long Nails

Don’t make me explain. We all know why lesbians can’t have long nails. It’s like the first rule. But I did enjoy having long nails when I was younger... With all the pretty colours and that irritating tapping you can do on a keyboard when your colleagues annoy you... Ah those were the days! The French Manicure is finished in Gay-Land. It just doesn’t exist. But that doesn’t stop me missing having girly hands. Although all the better for playing softball with, I suppose. 

4. Having Doors Opened

OK, so while some lesbians do still open doors and pull out chairs on dates, there seems to be no set rule on who does it. When I stopped dating men, I started finding myself stuck in doorways at dinner, looking hopelessly around me as I was used to our good old British Gentlemen leading the way. But it just doesn’t happen any more. And I don’t miss it because I’m high maintenance.... It’s because it’s been time consuming trying to adjust. You sort of get used to holding back a bit on first dates as men fall over themselves to be the perfect Gent. And when I first changed teams, it took a while for me to get used to the shift.


5. Closet Space

So I figured once I came out of the closet, I’d have a lot more room in there, right? No. Being a lezzer means dating women (Obvs), and that comes along with all of their girly shit. Now me, I’m not all that into clothes and make up products... I prefer to spend my money on Venison, Good Wine and Posh Salt (massive food snob!) but this doesn’t happen across the board. How much bloody stuff does one person need?! Seriously? In the past, when I’ve been dating someone and they suggest “Bringing some things over”... Once I’ve stopped hyperventilating (Commitment-Phobe)... I’m often floored at how much these ladies consider to be “The Essentials”. Why do you need two types of hairbrush? What’s with the little tin for your tampons? And who on earth needs a pair of pyjamas for each day of the week?! 

6. Not Sharing Clothes

Stop. Borrowing. My. Shit. 

I have a twin. I had to share everything when I was a kid. And now I’m all grown up, I am done to death with sharing my stuff. So stop using my posh shampoo, put the dressing gown the hell down and bring your own. Put it in “Your Half” of the closet with the rest of your bountiful belongings. And don’t let me catch you feeding my cats, either. That’s the only reason they love me. 

7. Holding Hands

The small, sleepy town in Hampshire where I live has a firm stance on Gays.... “We like them in the politically correct manner which is expected of us, but don’t want them all up in our faces.”. If I walked down my High Street holding hands with a girl, at best I’d get stared at and at worst I’d be shouted at. This I learned from experience, sadly, when a religious gentleman took it upon himself to damn me and my date to hell for eternity for holding hands. But it’s nice having that intimacy on the move! And it’s something I look forward to enjoying again when the rest of the country catches up with the LGBT movement. 

8. Making Genuine Friends

Am I the only person who suddenly made lots of new friends when they Came Out? Seriously, it was like I was unstoppable. But it only took me a few weeks to realise... I hadn’t just become witty and entertaining overnight, and thus attracted floods of new mates! It was because I was a lesbian now, and everyone likes to have a gay friend. It’s fashionable, it makes them look diverse and accepting. But they usually don’t give a shit about who I actually am. And it’s very time consuming trying to extract these people from your life when they’re chasing you down to go gay clubbing or pursuing you on your way to Pride. They wanna come, I get it, we’re a fun community. It’s just I don’t want to be someone’s “Token Gay Friend”. Please stop sending me SnapChats of Ellen Degeneres going about her life. That does not mean you “get me”. 

9. Not Pouting 

The Lesbian Pout is contagious. I’m not talking the “Posh Spice” kind of pout here, I’m talking that pushed-up-lower-lip lesbian pout. The kind where you push your pout over your top teeth and try to look cool. The kind that goes with the “Jaw Jut” and the “Lesbian Hair Flick”. Now I never used to do this with my mouth, but whenever I see myself in a picture in a gay club - there it bloody is! It’s uncanny and completely subconscious. And makes me look ridiculous.

10. Wearing Dresses

OK, so I know technically you’re “allowed” to wear dresses when gay, but not if you want to be taken seriously. Not in the UK anyway, you’re just seen as a “Tourist” in Gay-Land. Now I rock the wrap dress, but skinny jeans just don’t do it for me... Pear Shaped does not suit Gay-Wear, sadly, and so “Dressing the part” is out of bounds for me. Which makes it very difficult to be taken seriously on “The Scene” and, although I have one outfit that I can get away with (I gay it up a bit with a tasselled scarf) I just wish I was able to wear that killer green dress I used to love. 



Once I came out, I was in, and getting into the “Gay Scene” in Britain is hard. We’re a reserved bunch and consider ourselves a very exclusive pocket of society, and so can come across a little unfriendly. Especially as we’re all pouting by default. 

But although I may miss some of these little advantages of being straight, the cost is so worth it. Living a True Life and having Pride is a huge part of who I am, and something I think everyone should enjoy, worldwide, and non-exclusively.


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## Pidgeon84 (Aug 4, 2014)

But once I cam out it was all dresses :icon_cheesygrin:

lol anyways lovely piece. Funny and I totally relate.


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## thepancreas11 (Aug 4, 2014)

It's hard to judge this from the standpoint of a critic. I try to look at pieces here on the website as something to be edited and revised, but I'm not sure exactly how I would go about that. I find it suits your needs quite perfectly, to be honest. You do an excellent job of painting your self-portrait, of recounting your plight from an unobtrusive way, in that you're not seeking sympathy or trying to necessarily elicit an emotion, which I find useful in personal tales. Instead, you simply state the facts from your point of view and let others read into it in a kind of curious way. I find that this type of writing generally gets 1) more responses and 2) more action in the positive direction than a rant might. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that. I find the biggest setback to expressing my support for gay rights, political moderatism, agnosticism, what have you, to be that people often rant in support of their side of an issue, regardless of how logical, rational, or morally and ethically responsible it might be. The barbs you do throw, therefore, carry a greater impact. Never once did I think of what topics I generally discuss with lesbians, but you can bet now, I'll be way less attentive to where I steer the conversation, for instance. I don't want to be socially conscious. I want the society to be equal, and you made a good show of that here.

I'm not sure I have a way of really "making this better", for lack of a better phrase. I guess I would have to ask you what you intend to do with it, where you want to place it.


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## Plasticweld (Aug 4, 2014)

E J Nice read, you make me feel pretty good about being straight, my life is pretty simple with none of the problems you deal with.  I also share rule 6 with my wife.


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## Pandora (Aug 5, 2014)

You know ejrosetta I think of my best buddy whenever I read your work. Come to think of it I haven't seen her in a dress in years. This piece brought a new perspective for me and though I feel very close to her I didn't pay attention to the things she may have gone through making her decision over thirty years ago, she too a history with men. I just accepted it all and knew it was best for her without understanding the changes it brought. So your fun piece, and it was, brought more compassion and insight once again, I felt like I was in her shoes, they are not high heels anymore either. I enjoyed and learned, well done!


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## escorial (Aug 5, 2014)

i enjoyed the direct like it or lump it..... feel i got from the piece


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## qwertyman (Aug 6, 2014)

That's the longest smile I'm going to have this week.


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