You Look Like a Lesbian

I cannot remember how many times I have been told that I look like a lesbian. 

Typically, the instances increase after a fresh trim to my pixie cut, or when I go out in public after 9 pm in jeans and a sweatshirt. I once was told this by an (interested) female, when she asked me if I had a girlfriend and I replied apologetically that I did not, but that if I was in a relationship, it would be with a man. "But, you LOOK like a lesbian!" she exclaimed loudly in the bar.

Many of my friends will look at my outfits or how I have styled my hair on any given day and say things like "and you wonder why people think you're a lesbian!" Side note: I don't wonder. I know that our culture is programmed to make snap judgments based entirely on a person's appearance. Too bad for those making judgments that they didn't bother to actually find out one way or another. 

I joke about it with my friends too, so I am also a culprit. I will ask my sister if a certain outfit "makes me look like a lesbian" - but then I almost always wear it, anyway. Lately, however, I have been thinking a lot about this subject and have concluded that I have a huge problem with the term "look like a lesbian". 

First of all, the tone that is always used implies that is a bad thing to "look" like a lesbian, or to have people assume that you are homosexual. Admittedly, I am a single straight woman, so if I was aggressively on the hunt for a male partner, I might be unhappy with this assumption. But that is not up to other people to decide. I think it is indicative of a bigger issue within our culture that even my educated, liberal, socially-accepting friends think that someone "looking like a lesbian" is an amusing jab or insult. Guess what? A huge number of the population find women of all different looks to be attractive. That's right, I'm looking at you, all the straight men and gay women- everyone is into different things. It's a problem that it is overwhelmingly believed that I, as a heterosexual female, should somehow be ashamed of people thinking I am gay.

I've thought about this even deeper, though. What, exactly, does a lesbian look like? I can tell you that how I dress now is very similar to how I have dressed my entire life, and I have always been straight- so why, then, must I "look like a lesbian", when in actuality, I just look like Cait? Have you ever met two lesbians who looked exactly the same? How about two straight women? I certainly haven't. Also, shockingly, after 31 years of life, I still cannot simply look at a person and determine their sexuality. Gasp! 

Our culture assigns pretty strict sexual identities to type of dress and appearance. Generally speaking, if a man is dressed somewhat formally, in perhaps a nice shirt or well-fitted pants, others will question his sexuality. It is not considered masculine to care too much about ones appearance or clothing. If a woman dresses in a way that implies she does not care much about her appearance, people will also question her sexuality, assuming that only a lesbian would dress so much like a "man". This double standard is a huge problem in our culture, and is rooted in the idea that, in order to attract a "man", a woman must make herself look as different from him as possible- makeup, dressy clothes, well-coifed hair. Therefore, if I dress in a way that is comfortable for me, it will be assumed that I am trying to dress masculine, and the immediate judgment is made that I would only do this if I am trying to attract a woman. It is acceptable and even encouraged for men to do as little as possible with their appearance- we are taught that a man spending too much time on himself is sexually "suspect" in the hetero world. 

One of the people who told me that I "look like a lesbian" last night was, in fact, a homosexual man. I was wearing a backwards baseball cap and after his joking assessment of my outfit, he said "I mean, I'm wearing more makeup than you!" After responding with something incredibly snarky, along the lines of "lucky for me, I have perfect skin and don't need makeup", I thought about it and also added "and lucky for me, I don't fucking care."

To be defined as a straight woman upon first glance, there is long hair, shoulder length, bobs, up, down, braids, ponytails, dresses, skirts, leggings, skinny jeans, tank tops, low cut shirts, blouses, heels, flats, sandals, pea coats, puffy vests, something called a "cape-let"(you'll have to ask my best friend about that one), nude makeup, cat eye makeup, natural lips, Taylor Swift lips... The list goes on. Feminine style is actually quite broad, when you really get down to the details. However, add sneakers or a tshirt or a baseball cap, and suddenly, everyone is thrown. Any of these aspects and you are no longer seen as feminine. I wonder, do lesbian women get frustrated if they choose to wear a dress and someone assumes they are straight? Not because it is offensive to be assumed heterosexual, but because it is incredibly unfair that our culture says you must dress a certain way to be a certain way. 

I say screw it. I will continue to be a straight, sometimes boy-crazy 31 year old woman, and I think I'll keep politely fielding jokes about my appearance and the occasional come-on from a woman with my usual class and humor - hey, at least someone thinks I'm attractive! Who gives a shit if it's a male or female? 

I'll hop down off my feminist soapbox now (I only dig it out a couple of times a year, and only for issues that really concern me, but lately I have felt like throwing it in the backseat of my pickup truck- that's right, I drive a truck, care to comment on that?- and taking it with me everywhere I go), but I will also end with an excellent reminder from Oscar Wilde:

"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken."

This is 31

In two days, I will be 31 years old. 

I have been having some (dreaded) feelings about growing another year older, but until now, I hadn't been sure how to blog about them. 

It started when I realized that, at my age, my mother had been married, produced two perfect children (I suppose this is up for dispute, but this is my blog and I never said it was unbiased), gotten a divorce, remarried, and was a few months pregnant with her third kid. 

Pardon my French, but holy fucking shit. 

Last week, I posted a Facebook status about how I was "adulting" by washing, drying, folding, and putting away my laundry all in the same day. Reflecting on what my mother was doing at my age, I started to feel somewhat unaccomplished and inadequate. What have I done in my life? What mark have I left on the world? 

I started evaluating. I have no children, no pets, no husband, no job that has lasted more than a couple years, and no home with a deed in my name. I drink more often than I probably should, occasionally eat fast food, ride my bike without a helmet (sorry, Mom) and sometimes smoke pot (relax, it's legal in Colorado). I'm overweight and underpaid, my fridge is almost always empty, and I haven't been on a real first date in over two years. 

But damn, am I happy. 

And you know what? So is my mom. I think if you asked her if she regrets anything in her life, she would undoubtedly say no, and that every decision she made lead her to where she is right at this very moment. That she wouldn't take back having me (even though I arrived to complicate everyone's lives when her firstborn was only 20 months old), or even marrying my father (after all, he brought her the two wonderful daughters I mentioned above). I know she has never thought twice about her second marriage, which brought her not only her third biological child, but also a stepdaughter who she has always considered to be one of her own.

Did my mother's life turn out like she thought it would? I'm sure not. When I was a screaming baby and my sister a screaming toddler, I cannot imagine she looked towards her future and envisioned divorce, blended families, or a bachelor's degree in English (which she achieved at age 48, two weeks after I received mine. I decided to include this because it is important to remind everyone that my mother is, indeed, brilliant). 

But things don't happen how we think they will. Life is not a textbook, or a map, or a users manual. When I was a kid, I always assumed I would get married and have children of my own, because that's what was modeled to me. About halfway through my own 31-year model, I realized I had choices, and I started making them. As many and as often as I could, I chose things I wanted to do, whenever I wanted to do them. I moved. A lot. I changed jobs, cars, and haircuts. I lived for change. 

All of these seemingly unconnected choices have lead me here, on the birthday-eve-eve of 31, realizing that you can do whatever is right for you and it will be just that - right. So I plan to ring in my 31st birthday with (really)short hair, in a tshirt (and probably a Red Sox cap), single as hell, at a house party in the mountains of Colorado, after a full day of bartending for $5 an hour (plus tips). It may not be everyone's ideal, but damn, am I happy. 

If this is what being "in your 30's" looks like, then please, bring it on.