A Lifetime of World-building.
Issue 019: Words by Toni, and her girlfriend, Kalima, on their lesbian experience
Today, I'm presenting you with a very special edition of Toni is Typing; this happens to be my first collaboration, and it's with my favorite person. We are eternally grateful to exist with this identity during our one precious life, even in spite of the adjustments necessary to navigate a heteronormative world. This piece serves as a release, conversations we usually have with each other, now for others to indulge in. Thoughts, reflections, passionate billets-doux, rants, have at it and savor.
Chapter I: What Closet?
KM: The age of twenty-three has been a lot of things for me. Honestly, it's been a year of chaotic confusion in many areas of my life, and the crazy thing is that it will only get more chaotic. And while this year has been filled with a lot of confusion, it has also been filled with a lot of certainty, specifically regarding certainty with who I was, who I am, and who I will become.
In my past, I was for sure a lesbian, just a repressed one with no introduction to the language/words needed to define how I truly felt inside. I remember dating a boy in high school, and whenever I looked at his face, all I could see was the faces of other girls. I fixated on his feminine features a lot more than the usual threshold I would assume for something like that, and I grew tired of that face and him quickly. The relationship was very off and on and ended in the beginning years of college, which also happened to be the early stages of the pandemic.Â
Many emotions were felt during that time, considering the state of the world and how, as a collective, many were unaware if there would even be a tomorrow. As a vulnerable and fresh nineteen-year-old, the thought of having all the time in the world was crushed so abruptly. It made me realize how I felt about myself internally had to change quickly. Â
I have always felt that I do not know myself, yet I know myself completely. I knew that the boxes that society tries to put individuals in, especially young girls and women, were wrong and constrain one's autonomy, and I would be unable to fit into those boxes. Being involved romantically with a man was something that I knew internally was not right for me, but being a victim of navigating through a heteronormative society led me there anyways. Leaving that relationship allowed me to understand that if I continued to live a life filled with participating in what the "majority" was doing, I would live a lifetime of disappointing myself, and that simply wouldn't do because we are on borrowed time.Â
I remained single for a few years and went through the emotions. I was deeply disappointed in myself because I knew the relationship should have ended long ago. At first, I was not planning on coming out because I didn't find it necessary, considering it was evident that I would never date a guy again. Also, when you think about it, straight people don't be coming out, so why do queer people have to? However, some years later, I fell in love with a Black woman, and it only felt right to announce that I was a proud lesbian. I wanted the people in my life to understand how beautiful it is to fall in love with a woman and how, when you do, you also fall in love with yourself. I didn't want to be quiet about it, considering how much the influence of the outside world tried to repress me. Reaching the age of twenty-three and being able to identify as a lesbian allows me to finally affirm the little girl inside of me who needed it desperately from the very beginning.
AG: Like many, I had a pipeline: bisexual, pansexual, queer, unlabeled, then, alas, the climatic and utterly obvious finale, lesbian. I've come a long way. All my doubts and questioning came from outsiders and, well, the environment in which their opposing beliefs would thrive. At a very young age, I suppressed this rising feeling of definitiveness in fear of being shamed, never daring to let it come to the surface, in fear of it embodying a "dirty" word if it escaped my mouth. I was still myself through the worry, which spoke louder than anything I could have said.
All the years that ensued felt like perpetual hiding in plain sight, fiddling with a singular puzzle piece and experiencing friction as I eagerly yearned to place it where it belonged. Just a few years ago, when I voiced that I believed my lesbian identity to be true, responses were usually along the lines of, "Oh, I don't think you're a lesbian. You just haven't met the right guy." I've sat through shitty dates, one singular good date, and had a reaction neighboring a response to an allergy when I attempted to hook up with a man. As I fed off this seemingly inviting spotlight on me, it became abundantly clear to me as it dimmed, I had to sit with the unavoidable fact that I actually didn't care about any of them—there was simply no guy for me.
Explicitly, even at the most basic level, I had no desire to know if a man slept well, if any of my suitors ate dinner, or how they'd get to know me any further. My lack of interest in them isn't a nutshell for what I knew of my sexuality, but I found the coldness I experienced to be a catalyst in this need to rid myself of dysphoria. There was no heart in what I felt, and as a cancerian, feeling is my forever preserver, and it guides me. I no longer wanted to feel tormented by my truth but instead safe. And as a result, I sat with the idea that I had already been living as destined all along, and this pushed me towards a new approach to achieve joy in the quest of creating this synergy and peace between all versions of me.
I've always cared about the little things with women.
Chapter II: The Dangers of Erasure.
AG: Recently, I had a conversation, and I've done so before, regarding how I've been surrounded by gay people for as long as I can remember. My lunchmate from elementary, the majority of my proper middle school friend group, and all of the rest in the proceeding years who would shoot me a knowing look or feel comforted enough to have a talk, we gravitated towards each other effortlessly. We could also sense the fear in each other, all manifested by feeling invisible, shared stories of the strain on our family relationships, indifference instead of support from most, and failure to see anyone like us flourish in the real world and the media we consumed. We were engulfed by negativity in different ways, all gradually breaking us down and draining out the hope of one day waking up without the heft of dread and insecurity.
I'll never grow tired of representation talk. Its invaluableness is not to be debated. Being the only person to affirm yourself is bittersweet; how lovely it is to pour tlc into yourself without digging and digging. Conversely, it's lovely, too, to feel at home when you see others who are just as you are and feel a warm embrace from your community in various methods through various perspectives. To each their own, I wouldn't deny the blessing of either of these, but I do want to shine a light on how beautifully they work in tandem. I think about myself, old friends, all of the people I've come into contact with who had to explore a state of being blatantly familiar to them, just stifled. As much as I wanted better for us, I can only hope we all continue to reach new heights spiritually rather than the darkness we were confined to back then. I still crave to see myself everywhere without an instinctive double take.
KM: I could only imagine how much more liberating my imagination and dreams would have looked like in my previous years had there been more range in lesbian representation in all aspects of life. When trying to think about my first introduction to queerness, it honestly was class friends from both elementary and middle school. When looking back at class photos, I can’t help but be in awe because despite not having the language/words for our identity, we were still unapologetically ourselves with one another, acknowledging each other’s existence. As I grew a bit older, another important introduction to queerness for me was seeing a family friend of mine who identified as a woman, also in a romantic partnership with a woman. As a young teenager, seeing two Black women deeply infatuated with one another felt like they were committing an admirable act of bravery, considering how this wasn’t the norm in the spaces I was in at the time, and I just wanted to know more.
Not being introduced to how to effectively research reliable sources like books, articles, and documentaries just yet, I let mainstream media guide me, and my curiosity quickly led me to confusion, boredom, and disappointment because the representation of Black lesbians is so limiting and quite frankly irksome. The representation that I did find heavily centered around cosplaying straight people, and that made no sense to me because we are not straight! Everything I saw heavily revolved around romantic relationships, one having to be masculine presenting, the other feminine presenting, and the end goal of wanting to marry and have children. The only thing this did for my younger self was continue this society’s fixation on heteronormativity and placing heterosexuality at the top of the sexual orientation hierarchy as most valuable.
Only seeing lesbian representation mirroring straight people for a period of time harmed me because I had to suppress myself, and all I felt was shame. Feeling shame, especially at such a vulnerable age, is so heavy on the heart, and it shapes your mentality around believing that you don’t deserve the life you dream of. Shame also makes you project onto others, in the sense that when you see others be their authentic selves, you try to silence them, or you feel uncomfortable when they are more confident in their identity.
Lesbians don’t need any more suppression. They have been silenced enough. What we need is more and more representation. Representation is the fuel one needs to live in their truth. Representation needs to look like having more books by queer authors introduced in earlier stages of life. Representation needs to look like having more and more conversations addressing queerness as an identity that has always existed and how it’s here to stay. Representation also looks like giving flowers to leaders of queer movements because they put everything on the line to allow queer folks to be where they are today. Mainstream media also needs to start doing a better job of showcasing BLACK lesbians, I am begging. We need to see joyful and healthy Black lesbian media. We need to see Black lesbians not only in romantic relationships but also in beautiful and complex friendships. We need to see unambiguous Black lesbians and how they are navigating life. We need it all.
Chapter III: We Are NOT The Same.
AG: I've been waiting to get this one off my chest for a minute. Ever since I started immersing myself in spaces and ways of thinking that are inclusive of me and don't cater to the idea of heterosexuality being the preferred and universal innate sexuality, I've been so lonely. The ways that people in my life have thought of me were within this context: my experience tends to be harder for them to wrap their minds around, as if it's impossible to have an existence where I'm not shacked up with a man, awaiting marriage and motherhood. How is Antonia living and breathing without this prospect so unfathomable? Everything changed so quickly, and it became very apparent to me that I no longer relate to people in the ways that they once appreciated, and my lesbianism formed a wall between us.
It's complex. I'm the same Antonia, and I'm not. My sexuality has been a constant, whether or not it was expressed loudly. My reality has changed my perspectives, thus causing a rebirth that now prioritizes what I need to survive instead of succumbing to the familiar comfort of a herd to which I don't belong. My lack of interest in being desirable to men and traditional roles in relationships, along with a fervent love for deconstructing any other rule that tells me how I should be living as a woman, can be a threat to those under its wing. Check-ins became scarce, conversations turned dry, and hangouts didn't come to fruition.
My response to this sudden distance differs every day, and no matter the emotion that rises in me, it deepens. I finally feel so good about myself, with my confidence at an all-time high and a mind that expands beyond what I imagined for myself, and I don't get to share it much with people who make me feel understood. It really hurts sometimes, but my blossoming also reminds me that more people will come into my life and care about me, and at any given point, I will feel seen and heard. I've changed positively, and if my growth is too overwhelming for someone, perhaps we’ve reached the end of our journey together. Cultivating more Black queer spaces and actively seeking more Black lesbian friends has become vital for me as I've faced the facts instead of avoiding them when it comes to the energy I'm surrounded by and how it impacts me. Moving on has healing power, and I now know what's best for me. I'm feeling hopeful for the first time in a while. Some people don't want to be on the winning team, but that's okay.
KM: Stepping more into my queerness has allowed me to unlearn a lot of the nonsense that comes behind heteronormativity and connect that to how I move in the world as a Black lesbian. Knowledge is extremely powerful, but I am learning that with great knowledge comes great isolation. While many people are well aware that the ideals of heteronormativity need to be dissected and addressed, they choose ignorance, and this is one of the parts that hurt the most, especially when it comes from people close to you. I have noticed that people do not take lesbians seriously, and quite frankly, it is whack as fuck. The number of times my sexuality and relationship have been taken as a joke and only for the consumption of desire made it hard not to internalize.
To not internalize, I had to, and still do from time to time, remind myself that my existence does not revolve around the pleasure of a man. A man is not the prize, nor is romantic love. While romantic love is beautiful to experience, and I am blessed to have it in my life, it is not the only love I crave and is not the only love I want to pour into. Community and friendship are also extensions of love that are very important to me and need to be prioritized, not seen as disposable when romantic love comes around.
To sustain any relationship, whether it is romantic, platonic, or communal love, we must allow lesbian folks to live freely. The gender roles, judgment, and assumptions around what we think lesbianism should look like need to vanish in the presence of lesbians being themselves and in general. There is no one way to be a lesbian, and the more we try to push that onto lesbians, the more we police them, which is the same shit straight people do. Undoing the toxic heteronormativity planted in us is a lifetime responsibility; While it's challenging, I am willing to commit because I long for a life of safety, convenience, and wellness in abundance for all lesbians.
Chapter IV: Lovebirds.
KM: I could write about love all day. It changed my life. My romantic relationship came from a platonic relationship, my favorite pipeline, and I am so grateful it did. Antonia and I’s friendship was the seed that faith planted into us, and the love we have had for each other over the years is the water that has allowed the seed to grow and blossom.
Whenever I see Antonia, I see a halo above her head. She is an ethereally beautiful being, and my heart knew that the moment I saw her. She has always been easy to love, and when I began to realize that the love was transforming into romantic love, the type of intensity my heart felt was something I had never felt before. Crushing on a girl/woman is a beautiful experience, but it is also highly all-consuming to the mind and heart when you are the same gender. Everything you feel is so deep, and vulnerability is measured at a completely different magnitude. Considering this was my longest crush on a girl, and I was around her often, you can imagine how big my heart grew.
Being in love with a Black woman is a mind-altering experience that allowed me to confidently identify as a lesbian. If done right, it is a love that feels familiar and safe. It motivates you to be the best version of yourself so that both you and your partner can experience a fairytale-like love. My inner child is constantly healing because my partner exudes so much joy and reminds me that it is safe to be me because I will be loved no matter what. My life has never been filled with so much intention, and I am always ready to love because I was blessed to be loved by another Black lesbian.
AG: I've never experienced a healthy love until I was twenty-two. My relationship is a continuation of a rock-solid friendship, the closing curtain of an epic slow burn. I already knew where I was headed; there just wasn't any way my soulmate would be anyone other than a Black woman. I don't even know how to describe the fulfillment of finally meeting someone and being with someone who really gets you, but I will try my very best. This is something new, not an unpromising spotlight cast on me, as I mentioned before, but a renaissance that's showing me exactly what I've always deserved as a Black lesbian. She loves me so ferociously that I can only see serenity in her eyes. Through all that life throws at me, there is a constant radiance living inside me that refuses to go out because I'm loved so ferociously. She respects me. She loves me enough to challenge me. This is a love that makes me feel like I can do anything. A true breath of fresh air this woman has given me.
I didn't think I'd ever be capable of maintaining something so mutually sound. A love that is healing will cause breakthroughs. All of the toxins I've carried from trauma and conditioning are hurdles that don't seem so discouraging but are tasks that I face with passion. Every day, I shock myself with how well I can express myself without an ounce of regret. I'm held; a disarming nature welcomes me before anything else. Isn't it vile that in the eyes of many, I'd be exempt from an experience so sweet all because I'm receiving nourishment from another woman? Good thing I don't give a fuck! And never will.
Women love differently. Our love is the real definition of "going the extra mile." Our love can change our perspectives and those we pour into. Externalizing this gift is a blessing and won't be taken for granted for as long as I live. Long live lesbians; their adoration and devotion withstand the brutality of this world.
"In her kiss, I taste the revolution."
Chapter V: Queerness Is Divine Protection.
AG: Queerness breeds valor. One can be gay, but that doesn't necessarily make them queer. To be culturally queer is to invest in queer history, politics, and celebrate the expansive diversity of sexuality and gender in the community. This original meaning of ‘strange’ and ‘odd’ that evolved into a pejorative for gay people has come full circle to a word that embraces peculiarity as it means to challenge the norms that oppress everyone, queer and non-queer alike. I've met gay people who spew the most toxic and hateful rhetoric to those in their community naturally, and this behavior almost always jars me, and then I have a light bulb over the head moment, remembering how to identify someone gay, not queer. And trust, it's noted.
My development accelerated once I could feel how tapping into my queerness could liberate me and weed out those who want to get in the way of my progression. My judgment has sharpened, my heart is more open, and my hunger for learning is never satiated. Careless ignorance is incredibly dangerous, and the assumption that never addressing it could lead me to a happy life is something I never want to accept for myself. I love my community. I love how fearless we are. I love the support we have for each other. I love how we manage to make the sun shine through the fog of adversity. We are unstoppable, and I'm revered by this form of protection.
I know world-building is usually used in a fictitious manner, but the world that we’ve created is concrete. A reality where lesbians are treated with respect, queerness is revolutionary, and we all live a long, healthy, and prosperous life is not inconceivable or unachievable. We deserve it, and we know we'll fight for it—a lifetime worthwhile.
 | A guest post by
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i applaud you both for such an important piece of writing. i am completely speechless at the accuracy and the awareness of something that black lesbians were taught wasn’t universal. our experience really is unique — i didn’t know i could be gay because i believed only white people were granted that. so i agree representation is super important and needed now more than ever during this time of online politics with young lesbians. there is no community, there is no representation, there is nothing. we need this! beautiful work my friends.
This was beautiful and gave me so much hope. Thank you to you and your partner for opening up this way, it has strengthened my heart in more ways than one. I hope the year ends beautifully for the both of you ✨