How important are sexual definitions?
By the time this column is published, I will be seven months into what many people have affectionately termed a “phase.” What they mean by this unsolicited label is that I’m dating a “straight girl” or, more likely, that she is dating a gay woman.
It’s a term used by her friends to chalk up what they see as a temporary affair, and by my set as a cautionary warning. It’s one that I haven’t heard much since my college days, when every girl I hooked up with just coincidentally had her period when I began to remove her pants.
The inquiries about my girlfriend never seem to cease: Is she gay? Is she bi? Is she out? How does she label herself? Does she call herself a lesbian?
“She calls herself by her name,” I reply dismissively. “And she calls me her bitch,” I joke. But that’s quite close to the truth. We both engage in a fancy dance with definitions, and usually resort to the unspoken conclusion that we are “together.” In playful moments, we dub ourselves Lindsay and Sam, recognizing the many parallels between us and the mismatched Hollywood pair, with Lohan admitting the relationship but refusing to label herself a lesbian.
We are a society obsessed with labels — from the ones that grace our clothing to ones that establish our sexual identities. Personally, I hate both. But never have I been forced to deal so much with labels as since entering into this relationship, and mainly it’s been as a result of other people’s confusion and pressure. It’s made me think: How important is it to me to define and announce my sexuality? How solid is that definition? And do our labels define our actions or vice versa?
I know women who have been in relationships for years with women who define as bisexual. I know some women who define as lesbians while dating men for months at a time. So what is it that we’re defining? A lifestyle? Our bedroom behavior? A political penchant? Would it somehow validate my relationship if my girlfriend defined herself as gay? And what would that mean? Would she love me more? Never stray? Never recognize a beautiful man that crossed her path? I doubt it.
Personally, I’d prefer, if my girlfriend were to start defining herself, that it be as honest, loyal, trustworthy, and caring, rather than a sexual definition that can be blurred or obscured by a night of hard drinking. I convey to her on a regular basis that I don’t need her to define herself in the relationship or to drape herself in a rainbow flag and drive shirtless on a motorcycle through the streets. I simply need her to commit to “us.”
And if the lack of a label has people believing that this is just a phase, here’s a harsh reminder: your first marriage was probably a phase; most of your two-year relationships have likely been phases; and that Goth look in high school was probably a phase. Does that make those stages of your life any less significant, any less valuable in shaping who you are? Phases, unfortunately, are usually only discernable with the benefit of hindsight. When we are in the moment, many of us are blinded by the fairytale of forever, lest we be dubbed fatalistic. We’d probably all be better off if we could face the realization that most things in life are phases.
So, now that I think about it, everyone is probably right. This probably is a phase. It’s a phase of my life and a phase of hers; and we’re enjoying it together, despite whatever labels we’re assigning to the relationship or each other, and regardless of whatever weight or validity they might give the situation.
I’d rather it be a defining moment in our lives than something we feel we need to define for others.
Jeannie Greeley is a gay, right-handed, left-wing, Marc Jacobs–wearing bitch who hates labels. She can be reached at jeannieg@comcast.net.
