Two things can be true

Hot take: I love men.

And I know what you’re thinking—

girl, that’s not exactly radical

and aren’t you one of those leftist

gender studies majors who’s like.

totally queer and

supposed to hate men?

Let me explain:

I love when men are so tall

they hover over me

my chin at chest height

big biceps and big hands

wrapped tightly around me

inhaling cologne through their t-shirts

makes me feel cared for and tiny

in a way that I haven’t 

since I was small.

I love the way that men style themselves: effortlessly —

timeless basics, tousled hair, 

wallets and watches and 

a five o’ clock shadow 

that grows in haphazardly 

I love when men can lift weights

and play to their strengths

all jawline and smirking smiles

their charm so alluring

I melt when I play passenger princess

letting them take control from the driver’s seat

I love when men open doors and send flowers

and if a man can build a home or fix a car?

then baby, I am yearning.

Loving men feels stable

they’re such straight shooters,

I always know what I’m getting:

I’ll take on the mental load 

while he clears the driveway

I’ll give him head

and maybe o while we’re in missionary?

I’ll act like wifey material 

and he’ll buy the wedding ring 

I’ll raise the kids

while he makes the six-figure salary

to love a man

is to shake hands and 

barter your best deal

with the patriarchy

but the problem with loving men

is that that deal too often comes 

at the expense of my safety.

I know what you’re thinking —

not all men!

and you’re right 

some men are 

kind and courageous and caring

but certainly, too many are not 

and those kinds of men scare me.

I don’t hate men,

but I do hate

having to share my location with friends

before I go out with one

“just in case he wants to murder me!”

I do hate 

when they stalk me ahead of time

learn the intricacies of my personality 

just to put down my interests

remind me that theirs are more important 

I do hate being

yelled at and belittled and embarrassed publicly

(and yes, I have experienced all of these things)

I don’t hate men

but I do hate 

their selective empathy

I hate the way the offer loyalty to predators 

and rarely, the women 

those predators are hurting

I hate the way our autonomy

becomes bartered with desirability 

the way that no becomes a 

starting point for a debate

instead of an answer with finality

“No baby, not tonight”

“Please, baby?”

I hate that every woman 

either holds a story she never wanted to tell

or a story of the time she was almost —

and the fact I don’t have to finish that sentence

should tell you everything. 

So I don’t 

hate dating men

I just hate living in constant fear 

that they might hurt me.

Luckily, I don’t have to date men,

because women exist 

though for completely different reasons 

that’s equally as scary.

Let me explain.

I love women

I love how shiny their hair is

the way they step out the shower

smelling like vanilla and cookies

dotted freckles on glistening skin

I love when women get bangs or bobs

when their doe eyes light up 

the way they use their hands

to tell a story about something 

I love their cute trinkets

the matchas and martinis they order

I love opening up to each other 

the inherent comfortability

we have

talking about everything

the sacred, the special

between women holds a 

 “men can’t touch this” intimacy.

I love women’s curves

and yes, those ones

but also, the small of their backs

and the soft edge they bring to 

a world that is 

otherwise so hardening

I love kissing women

I love how soft their lips are

lined by little cupids bows

and dimples that press into their cheeks

when they’re smiling

holding their chin in my hands

feels so delicate and gentle

but makes me so voraciously hungry

I love having sex with women

because although I don’t know

who’s supposed to drive the bus

without a man there

I always like the scenic destination 

to which we’re heading 

If all that makes me sound like a seasoned lesbian,

my bad, I’m really bluffing

I’ve had one boyfriend

and zero girlfriends

because I have always been held back 

by compulsive heteronormativity. 

Sex-ed never taught queer people how to flirt

So when a woman tells me I’m beautiful 

I assume she means it platonically 

I was never taught that it was normal

or even, possible

for women to love other women

My first experiences were

limited to the dark hours of the night

always kept in secret

I’d tell myself that kissing girls

was just blacked out practice in bars

just friends, just experimenting

nursing our next morning hangovers

I’d wake up feeling confirmation

and they’d tell me it didn’t mean anything. 

I’ve known my queerness for fifteen years

kissed girls for ten

been out for six

it took five girl crushes

to confirm that it wasn’t a phase

more like a force

inevitably part of me

no matter how badly 

I didn’t want these flowers,

I mean, feelings,

to bloom.

Some of my worst heartbreaks 

have been best friends 

who were secretly my soulmates 

that never actualized 

because confusingly intimate

friendships with straight girls

and dating straight men

never gave me a real opportunity to.

and even thinking of a queer future

holds its own heartbreak

types of sex we couldn’t have

kids we couldn’t birth

places that might never 

be safe enough to travel to

songs not intended for us

familial and societal acceptance 

that no matter how wonderful 

a woman I bring home

we would never attain or ease into.

Sometimes the queer glass ceiling 

feels so high I might never reach it

so although there are beautiful girls

that I would give anything to

I tell myself when 

the pilates mats kiss their foreheads

that if not in this lifetime

then maybe in the next one, 

 I’ll be lucky enough to.

Being bisexual 

is the rock and the hard place

stuck between choosing to date someone 

who might oppress me

or choosing to date

knowing I’ll be oppressed by society —

So when I say

I love dating men

and

I hate dating men 

and

I love dating women

and

I hate dating women 

I might sound confused,

but I’ve embraced my expansive 

capacity for love

enough by now 

to know that two things can be true.

Respect women

and don’t make life harder for queer people

than it already is.

Love is the greatest gift we have

the antidote to hate and trauma 

and everyone deserves it.