The Faghag

I debated posting this story anywhere, but it seems that hubpages are a great place to voice your opinion. Right now so many of my friends are being treated as second class citizens by the rest of the world. I can't help but be stunned by such obvious prejudice. I hear and read people speaking about gay rights and I literally squint my eyes because I cannot understand how there is any debate. How is anyone's religion allowed to affect the rights of others? How is the personal beliefs allowed to influence the freedoms of others?

My story begins when I was young and the only gay man I'd ever known was a renter at my parent's apt house. I remember my mother speaking in hushed tones, mouthing the word gay and AIDS. This was 1984 and President Regan was being, well the shmuck that he was. My mother, without realizing it, instilled in me this open-mindedness which I'm sure at times makes her shake her head. The fun of Paul, the gay renter, was that he was fun. He had AIDS and was dying, but all I remember about him was he was funny, charming and skinny. And my mother was genuinely saddened by his death. So that was my first adventure into the gay culture. Not much to speak of.

And then I met Jeff. Jeff was the first man to come out to me. It was through his growth in the gay community that I found my growth. Straight women have a unique perspective of the gay community and I hope by sharing mine with all of you, that you'll invite some of the joy and laughter which has filled my life for so long.

I'm a woman. No mistakes about it. I love shoes. I love shopping. I love men. I have breasts. And I have a vagina. At least one of those qualities definitively qualifies me as a woman. If you guessed ; I love shoes, you'd be correct. For most of my 20s I spent my life around men who were more interested in the fact that I loved shoes than that I had a vagina. Actually, I sought out these men.

I love gay men. And gay bars. And gay culture. The Gay Pride Parade in Denver used to be the event I looked most forward to all year (I live in Sweden now). I've secretly wished I was a man at least a hundred times while hanging around my gay friends. I spent most of my 20s in the gay culture, hanging around my friends, 95% of who were gay men and 80% of who were drop dead gorgeous. In gay fashionable terms I was called a faghag, fruitfly, and during one horrendous week of independent foreign films; Okoge.

My 20s were a whirl of gorgeous clothes, dancing nearly every night, drinking, cocktail hour and dinner parties. By day we shopped for our outfits for the weekend parties and clubs, and by night we hit the popular nightclubs. Not once did I dress to please a man. I dressed for myself. For the love of chiffon and high heels. Sometimes, gasp, I wore wigs and sucked a lollipop. Sometimes I wore glitter and always too much makeup. I wore what I thought was fabulous, not what I thought would get me a husband or laid. I didn't have to worry about anything except myself. It was magnificent. Reading this, one might think I lived in a fabulous cosmopolitan town, but you would be wrong. I felt like I lived in a cosmopolitan city. I was Carrie in SATC. I don't regret a minute of my 20's. And I wish my experiences on every girl in the world.

So take it from me, you need more gay men in your life. A diversity of friends makes your life so much more valuable and interesting. You will be a better person for bringing such richness and joy into your lives. If you have even one gay friend, you understand the significance they play in your life. If you only have one gay friend, you cannot understand the significance many gay men can play in your life. Its an experience every woman should have.

I'd recommend it for men, but straight men at gay clubs ruins the 'no expectations'. No, I'm afraid the only penises invited to my faghag world are the ones that don't rise to the occassion.