Crushing Clams : Guide to Lesbian Etiquette

Oh My God, I’m Gay!

Hey there kids and kittens! Thunderbush and Gaynip here for your first installment of Crushing Clams your guide to all things gay. You might be asking yourselves, “What made you guys decide to write a gay blog?”, and it’s funny you should ask (and if you didn’t, too bad we’re going to tell you). Thunderbush and I woke up in a jail cell after a night of drunken debauchery (is there any other kind?) and the judge said it was either write a blog to educate the world about all things gay/lesbian or… we could go to jail. TB was all set to go to jail, but I wasn’t too keen on becoming Bertha’s bitch. So we opted for the blog.

Okay, so that’s not exactly true. The real answer (far less glamorous or funny) is that we have a lot of free time on our hands. Thunderbush and I are kind of polar opposites on the lesbian scale. Kinda like Donnie and Marie, she’s a little bit rock & roll and I’m a little bit country. Only there’s no incest. And we’re a helluvalot gayer, which, in retrospect is pretty damn gay. Joking aside, TB has been out for about 2 years now and I’ve just come out. I live in a small town and TB lives in the big city. It’s not hard to tell I’m gay (c’mon, a chick in a tie…) and TB often gets mistaken for being straight (it’s the purses…not so gay, TB). We thought the differences would offer up a unique perspective on how it all comes together. We both sat down at the big gay drawing board (which looks suspiciously like a regular drawing board) and wondered what our first blog should be about. After much discussion, alcohol and procrastination, the topic we chose was: “Oh my God, I’m Gay!”


When I was in high school, my “friends” used to call me a dyke and a lesbian on a daily basis. It didn’t matter what I did, when they wanted to make fun of me, that’s where the jokes would ultimately go. It made me angry and it also made me wonder if I was missing something. My parents had me convinced that it was just “kids being kids” (read: cruel). I could never keep a boyfriend. Not to say the guys didn’t like me, quite the contrary, but once they started to get too close (or want more than kissing) I would break up with them. I told my friends I didn’t want to have sex, and that my parents raised me to wait.  

At the tail end of my first year in college I met a girl; we’ll call her Norma Bates (because, well, she turned out to be a psycho). I won’t get into the details of the “relationship” (for lack of a better term) but when I left home for the month for an internship, Norma called my house. She knew I wasn’t home but felt the need to check up on me. My parents became suspicious and asked my sister what she knew of my friend Norma. My sister, who was always looking for ways to get me into hot water (and had so far been unsuccessful), told them that Norma and I were more than just friends. Shortly thereafter, my Dad called me up and asked me point blank if I was a lesbian. The question took me aback and honestly, I’d never even thought of it like that. He insisted I promise him I wasn’t gay (what can I say, he’s truly homophobic) and because I loved him, I promised. We never spoke of Norma again.

Fast forward to February of this year, I had just come home from running errands and was putting everything away and sort of talking to myself (because I’m mentally stable, right?  …RIGHT?). I don’t even remember what about, but I said “It’s not like I’m gay or anything” and I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror as I shut the medicine cabinet. I felt so sad all of a sudden, very much like someone who’d just been caught in a weighty lie. I broke down, I couldn’t hand it, and the very idea that I was gay scared the hell out of me.


Coming from a small town, I never really thought of “gay” or “lesbian” at all. Being a high school bookworm- I wasn’t exactly part of the socialite crowd, so dating was never an issue. I think I had a boyfriend for all of half an hour? With college came a string of short-term boyfriends and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why the sex was always boring (I had sex while watching TV to stay distracted!), or why the breakups were never hard. Then it happened…My first kiss with a girl… BING! LIGHTBULB!I tried to tell myself it only turned me on “because guys were watching” and proceeded to try and laugh it off, even though I knew something felt more right about kissing her than anything else ever had. It was welcome to the years of denial.

Fast forward another year, I met my soon to be fiancé at 19. He loved me and I thought my girl kissing was just a phase. I was going to get married, have kids and BE NORMAL!! This lasted all of seven months and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I broke things off with “boy” and finally had the courage to date a girl. I was lucky she was absolutely wonderful and even though we didn’t last, she ended up being one of my best friends. I never looked back. In all honesty, I was relieved that I could finally admit to myself that I was a lesbian.


Ultimately, the stories vary from person to person. Some people have known their whole lives, some people figure it out late in life (it’s quite the “in thing” for women in their late 30’s/early 40’s to come out) or never at all (we’ve all met that person we swear to God is gay). When you get right down to it, it’s about being true to yourself, and like the song says:


Some days you gotta dance,

Live it up when you get the chance

cause when the world doesnt make no sense

And youre feeling just a little to tense

Gotta loosen up those chains and dance -Dixie Chicks


Whether you’re straight, gay, bi, trans or fall somewhere else on the sexual colour spectrum, be yourself.