“She doesn’t care.”
Those three words ushered in my first lesbian heartbreak.
I put the word “lesbian” in quotes because the phrase “lesbian heartbreak” is spoken about as if it’s unique. It’s not. The thing about queer heartbreak is not that it hits any harder than hetero heartbreak. What’s being experienced is the first heartbreak you’ve ever been through, however, there are so many expectations heaped on it. That’s why I believe so many others think it hits harder.
I knew deep down that women were people, and like everyone else, they were certainly capable of inflicting pain. While some of us like to wear cynicism on our chest, speaking about the looming threat of heartbreak to the other baby gays, I refuse. Call me naive, or call me stupid, I don’t care. Open hearts and optimism will always be braver to me than closed hearts kept shut with cynicism.
But…god…that pain is real.
I know for a lot of us, we thought that we’d be the ones that beat the odds. That our queer awakenings would also be a savior story from the shackles of our closeted lives. That we’d end up being the one when the lovely pictures of how we were swept off our feet and had the happily ever after when we found ourselves.
We never believe that we’d be the ones fighting for our lives and sanity on these dating streets. But therein lies the issue. When heartbreak hits, it’s more the loss of what could have been than the loss itself.
What I wanted more than anything was to not feel alone, to not go through my gay awakening by myself. Some of us end up having our happily ever after. I was turned away when I told her I didn’t want to be the other woman and her dirty little secret. That was my gay awakening.
I was left alone to deal with the anger, sadness, depression, and fear on my own for months. I was desperate to keep it from bubbling up to the surface while I worked. I’m finally seeing the other side of that tunnel and I’m grateful for it.
A gay awakening will save you from living a lie, but it won’t save much else.