Metrosexual is a bit of a half-hearted term which most people use when they’re referring to a man who straightens his hair. Yawn. I was straightening my hair before I came out of the womb.
Most of the time I feel as if I’m, like, a straight boy trapped in a gay guy’s body. Or I’m a lesbian with a penis. Basically, I like girls, but most people don’t know that. Probably because I’m the furthest thing from a LAD that anyone can possibly be. I find the concept of banter painfully cringeworthy, and the phrase ‘alright mate’ has never once been ushered by my moisturised pouty girl lips. I’d choose a pot of glitter over a pint of bitter any day.
Most of my friendships are with girls and gay guys. I think The First Wives Club is one of the best films ever. Sometimes I wear tights. Once I wore a skirt. What a crazy gender-bending badass I am. Be scared.
But despite all of this perceived ‘gayness’, I’m heterosexual. Surprise! Unfortunately, it gets really awkward when someone asks me something like: ‘So, do you have a boyfriend?’ and then I awkwardly mutter that I’m straight. And then their eyes widen, as if I’m a confused child who has gotten lost in the supermarket. The supermarket of life.
So, I’m kind of always having to go back in the closet, as it were. Or is it the gay closet that I’m coming out of? Whatever. Closets are bad.
Cue the classic response to my closet-clobbering behaviour. “B-but, you’re wearing mascara. And you’re, like, super feminine. How can you possibly be straight?!” Well, for a start, you naughty assuming person, sexuality is much more complicated than how we act and what we wear, and please do bear this in mind when questioning someone’s sex preferences. Oh! But it gets worse.
Some people actually tell me that I am in fact in the closet, and that I am gay, I just don’t know it yet. Wow. That’s totally not an okay thing to do.
Correcting someone on their own sexuality is like telling them they do like meat, even though they’re vegan. (I’m not likening penises to salamis or vaginas to lettuces here, I’m just trying my very best to anal-ogise it all).
In the end, I’m quite happy with my own sexuality, and I don’t take it too seriously. But I do hate the whole meeting-someone-for-the-first-time-and-them-assuming-I’m-gay thing. I don’t even know what point it is I’m even making. I just know that writing this felt good. Sorry for using you as therapy xoJane.