‘No!’ I say, far too loudly. ‘No, it’s not that. I just… I’m trying to learn more about LGBTQ+ people! I guess this was one of those “born this way” kind of moments for you that people always talk about?’
‘Maybe for me, but that’s not true of everyone. Not everyone is certain of their own attraction to each gender from birth, same as not everyone is certain of their gender.’
‘They’re not?’ I whisper.
‘Well, no. That’s how Sasha came out later.’
I shake my head. ‘Not gender, I was thinking of attraction. Sexuality.’
‘Oh no, not everyone knows,’ she says, so relaxed that she starts doing stretches. I feel so stiff that I should probably have a go too but I can’t move because a bombshell is being dropped on me extremely slowly. ‘You have to consider compulsory heterosexuality.’
‘What’s that?’
Lina gestures around us. ‘The idea that heterosexuality is the only option, or the best option, or the right option. Depends what you’ve grown up under. It makes realising you have attraction for womenas a womanmuch harder because you’ve just been told your whole life that men are the only option. Unless you’ve fancied girls and known what it was or had an incredibly close childhood friendship with another girl and understood whatthatmeant, it’s hard for women to identify that as attraction, not admiration.’
‘How would you even tell the attraction from a friendship?’ I manage to gasp out.
‘With a woman?’ She asks this with a bit of surprise. ‘All the same crush feelings, probably with a side of guilt for worrying I was objectifying her or assuming she was into me.’ Lina laughs, and it’s not unkind, but it’s spinning me out.
I want to be sick and I don’t know why. Sweat pools in every crevice and I feel my face flushing hot. ‘Okay, thank you, Lina!’ I say, getting to my feet.
‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes, I just… need the toilet!’
Not totally wrong. I crash into our ensuite, thankful that Dolly is out on a date right now and doesn’t have to hear me throw up. Autism, for me, means that instead of identifying the feeling, my body just evacuates itself. I think I’m like a sea cucumber, ejecting my innards at any sign of danger.
I can’t help it, but I’m replaying memories of high school. Year eight, that sudden friendship with Marina that felt intense and special and like nothing else I’d ever felt before. We would tell each other everything, share a bed, walk around holding hands. Just like all the other girls.
Except… it wasn’t.Iwasn’t like all the other girls, I knew that.
It probably didn’t help when someone asked if we were dating, and Marina scrunched up her perfect little ski slope nose and proclaimed loudly that she was ‘not a fucking lesbo’.
But, to me, it always felt different from any of the other friendships I’d had, and perhaps that’s why, when Marina decided that she didn’t want to be friends with someone quite so intense, it hurt so much.
Mike quickly came along and filled the hole in my heart, mostly.
For so long I’d chalked up that disaster tojustautism, tragic as that sounds, but now I’m wondering if perhaps it was more all along.
After whatever that was burned up in flames, I told myself I’d never let myself get confused about a girl again. I liked boys, that was evident. I’d just got confused, overenthusiastic perhaps. Maybe watched too muchOrange Is the New Black.
What if I was wrong? What if I’ve spent my life trying not to admit to myself something I’ve suspected for so long? I think hearing someone say it so casually, like it’s not the end of the world, is just so terrifying. Because all this time I’ve thought it was the worst thing, a terrible mistake I had to hide, elsepeople might not like me the same, and yet Lina just said it out loud with ease.
The rules I’ve been living by might not exist and that is petrifying.
Have I been locking myself away for no reason?
And is this the reason I can’t stop wanting to talk to Dolly? Why I want to impress her, or make her laugh? Why I can’t stop thinking about the moment the Goddess stepped out into traffic…
When you mask this hard, you get used to telling yourself sweet little lies. No, it’s not that bad. You will get over it. It doesn’t hurt. Stop overreacting. It all adds up to a habit of lying to yourself, and just because I’m aware I’m doing it, doesn’t mean I can necessarily stop. Sometimes it means I can’t quite follow my own train of thought.
Is the reason I’ve been thinking that Dolly would be perfect for me if she wasn’t a woman because I like her? Her caring, kind nature. Her wit. I feel like we connect in so many areas, which makes us a great friendship, even if she is neurotypical.
Fuck.
So I’ve been objectifying her in my own head, and sharing a room with her… I bet she’s felt uncomfortable this whole time. But she’s friends with lesbians. She must be used to that? God, I’m making excuses.
But then, sometimes I catch her looking at me, like she’s reading something on my skin. Could that—
