#fag4dyke

[campgender]

from "A lesbian married to a man? writing on the expansiveness of lesbian life" by Jenn M. Jackson, PhD

(image description / transcript under the cut)

image description: four photos of Dr. Jenn M. Jackson, a genderqueer Black lesbian, and their husband over the years of their relationship, interspersed with excerpts from the essay.

the text reads:

I got married to my best friend on May 27th, 2006. We met on move-in day at the University of Southern California back in August 2002. We were both student residents on the Somerville Place floor at school, also known as the “Black Floor.” When we met, I was wearing a gray Ecko Unlimited jogging suit with gray Jordan’s. He was wearing khaki shorts (which I would learn was a part of his regular uniform as a Black boy from Orange County, CA) and And1 tennis shoes. I truly thought he was a square. But, over the course of a few days, I felt drawn to him. We sat together on the bus that weekend, heading out for bonding events. We found each other in every crowd. And, we kept getting asked, “did y’all know each other in high school or something?”

Over time, I identified as bisexual (from about age 16 to 28), then pansexual (from about 28 to 35), and then understanding myself as a lesbian after 35 years old. Daren came to identify as asexual around 2016 after we had been married for about 10 years. We both struggled through our new identities, finding alignment in the naming and community. And, as the romantic and sexual part of our relationship transitioned, we actually became closer. We have learned to build so many expansive forms of intimacy that do not involve sex and sexual pleasure. We shower together, take long baths (usually where we plan new episodes of our podcast), take regular walks, and spend time each day talking to each other as if we are long lost friends. He is my best friend. I love him.

Because I have never believed in the concept of a “soul mate” and have never internalized narratives around someone else “completing me", I am able to have a deeply loving and committed relationship with my best friend, coparent, and spouse even while maintaining loving and intimate relationships with women and gender expansive people. While I am no longer attracted to cisgender men and do not date or sleep with them, I have never felt compelled to leave or divorce my spouse. We have raised three incredible free Black children together, started a business, and written books. We play videogames and travel together as we have always done. When we are sick, we care for one another. When we are down, we hold one another.

I have never understood marriage to be about sex and attraction. I have always understood marriage as a formal contract with the state. “To have and to hold…” and all of that. I watched women in my family marry men they thought were sexy only to have those men abuse them and break their spirits. I have watched marriages of obligation grow boring, dull, and loveless. I have witnessed many people use someone else’s definition of love and marriage to build their own.

We rebuke that.

I am a lesbian married to an incredible, loving, beautiful Black man. A man who has nursed me through emergency open heart surgery and helped me learn to walk again both literally and metaphorically. I am married to man who has never needed me to be seen and not heard. Who has never challenged my intellect or diminished my accomplishments. I am married to a Black man who loves himself, his children, his life, and his future selves. I married well.

And, one day, when I meet the women or gender expansive people of my dreams, that man I married nearly twenty years ago will be standing there beside me, genuinely happy for me because he knows that no matter who or how I love, it will never change how I feel about him.

photo 1: a series of black and white photo strips of Jenn and Daren in college. they kiss, grin, and make silly faces

photo 2: Jenn and Daren in college, their faces pressed together, smiling widely

photo 3: a young Jenn with their arm around Daren

photo 4: Jenn in their late 30s, posed on their couch with their dog in their lap. Daren stands behind the couch, his arm around them. Jenn's book, Black Women Taught Us, is posed to the side.

end image description

[number1spankiefanguywoman]

happy pride month from these freaks

[dissvicious]

Part of me wants the chaos and part of me walks alone What am I doing, who am I fooling? What's a life spent on your own?

Should we start loving? Give this a try? You got baggage but so do I You got baggage but so do I Let's give it a try

Alternate version under the cut!

[lilacqueerr]

That there are straight men who appreciate and identify with the sensual, whole-body focus and absence of hetero sex roles in lesbian porn is a barely acknowledged secret—but it helps explain why some gay men, too, might appreciate a peek at all all-women's world. True, most gay men probably do focus on cock. But some find the roles and conventions expressed in much gay porn as tired as those in straight porn.

Gay male pornography does not hold the same appeal to the heterosexual woman who has been reared on romance novels and sex-role stereotypes as all-girl action does to her male counterparts, since gay porn studs are obviously aroused and quite visibly know how to satisfy each other, and there are no swept-away female characters with whom to identify. Many other women, though, relish the male eroticism—lord knows the men in gay porn embody male beauty more successfully than their heterosexual porn counterparts—and female viewers who are dykes or bisexual may also appreciate the specifically homoerotic, male-on-male dynamic of porn made for gay men. Here, a woman porn consumer finds no pesky heterosexual assumptions or sex-role stereotypes (at least none that relate directly to her); even the emphasis on a relationship that often marks lesbian erotica is usually absent. What she gets, instead, is hot homo-sex—and a chance to voyeuristically appreciate male sexuality without calling her sexual orientation into question.

For all the culture's insistence that women and men are deeply different, even "opposite" (language which shores up the notion that there are only two sexes/genders whose members have next to nothing in common), the fence that separates us can be scaled; sometimes the view from the top is surprisingly clear. Fags and dykes, freed from the folie a deux that heterosexuality can be, have the space to look at maleness and femaleness afresh, as well as to view members of the other gender through the lens of our own femme or butch or androgynous sensibilities. Even when we get our portraits of each other all wrong, our perspectives and projections are illustrative of uniquely queer takes on sexuality and gender roles.

from Switch Hitters: Lesbians Write Gay Male Erotica and Gay Men Write Lesbian Erotica, edited by Carol Queen and Lawrence Schimel.

[idolsylveon]

we need les4gay shit on this site

[trashboatboyo]

I love being t4t. Where else will you see a beautiful, sensual, and loving relationship between a transfem they/them cottagecore dyke and a transmasc he/they/any punk dogfag? Gorgeous. Wouldn't have it any other way

[campgender]

Quim Issue #5 (1994)

[image description: a cropped image of a magazine in black and white. at the top is the question “how can you be a lesbian and sleep with boys?” echoed by the words “call yourself a lesbian.” below this are answers with different text formatting for different responses. a black and white cartoon in the bottom right corner shows two people in skirts saying “what on earth was that about?” “haven’t a clue.”

the responses read:

I hardly ever actually slept with them. Of course you can and many of us do. Having sex with men is a diversion I allow myself every 6-8 years. They become more exciting by being forbidden.

I am a lesbian because of the people I choose to live my life with. Occasionally fucking a man doesn’t change that.

I don’t, I call myself bisexual.

My lesbianism means that I am only physically, mentally and emotionally attracted to women. Though I have had good one-off sex with men in the past, that’s as far as it goes. As far as sexual relationships go they don’t feature.

The few occasions I have done it I have had no problem dealing with it at all. I know I’m a dyke – and one of the benefits of being a dyke is having the choice and occasion to do what the hell you like. If I want to shag a bloke then I will (if nothing else to remind me why I never really wanted to sleep with them in the first place!)

If I was interested enough to commit myself to getting good sex with men, there’d come a point when I’d call myself bi-sexual. Anything I engage and put myself into is something to be proud of, so I’d be proud to call myself bi-sexual. But I don’t feel proud of what I have ever felt or done with men in bed, so the label doesn’t apply.

Easy. I am a lesbian and I sleep with guys every once in a while. Which I know many dykes do but they’re just too scared to admit thinking that women will see them in a different light. Most dykes get the 7 year itch even when they don’t admit it to themselves.

I can’t see a way of sleeping with a man/men on a regular basis and calling yourself a lesbian.

Easy.

I can fall in love with women in a matter of minutes. I have never fallen for a man in the same way.

end image description.]

[number1spankiefanguywoman]

sparky and frankie fag4dyke icon idk if I'll use