Will the real relationship please stand up?

To say that I always have it easy as a lesbian is downright crazy.

Curious researchers have probed, poked and dissected lesbians relationships and concluded that yes, this is quite a walk in the park. In fact, it is such a slow leisurely walk that you can all bring your fancy barbeques and let’s all have a party in here.

Humor me, please.

When I try to reminisce my love stories, I get a whole different picture it’s very hard to relate. Not that I have had many relationships, but the little I have experienced has come in all shapes and flavors I almost never recognize myself when they are over.

As a small girl, weddings fascinated me. I was a flower girl in many of these. While donning a little white dress, nobody could talk me into not believing in living happily ever after. I believed in my prince charming sweeping me off my feet and living with me in his castle forever after.

Though the gender of the prince has changed, I wonder whether the story has remained the same.

I agree that when it comes to PDA, we have it easy. But that is as far as it goes. There are queers and quarks, those with secrets and checkered pasts, those in love and those flaky ‘lesbian’ straight women with multitudes of personalities. You might turn into a pretzel pleasing her, but she will go back to her heterosexual nest anyway.

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There are issues plus a zillion others in lesbian relationships.

After we are done recycling the small circle that is our community, we are left in the mercies of our not so eager to see us happy families. Not many of them would understand why their beautiful daughter would torment her soul getting heartbreak after heartbreak from another woman.

I mean, look at the sea of all the tall, dark and handsome men. It feels sort of like the voodoo, very difficult to explain unless you are in it.

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Though there are some robust lesbian relationships around, picking them in a crowd is very difficult, it is like explaining to a four year old the meaning of twerking. They find them eventually now that the videos are all over on Youtube! Look at what we have done to our children.

The average lesbian relationship around here lasts anything from one day to maybe seven years max. By the time the partnership is over, you have trekked to Masai Mara and hunted all kinds of rare meat in the jungle for her and most probably, you have been disowned by your family. You have fought the daily signature fights with courage and resilience. You have survived the wilderness of PMS for two and finally, this has culminated into a therapist inducing break-up.

The formula for strong relationships still remains elusive; every one writes their own stories. A woman will tell you of a girlfriend who got miraculously pregnant, others will tell tales of how she ran away with her first lover and others will pay homage by inviting you to their weddings. With an opposite sex of course.

I ask myself, but what suddenly happens to that first cosmic kiss. What became of the lightning bolts of lust and love she melted our heart with, what of the nights and days of deprivation to remain true to her?

These are the street we wander, and there is nowhere to go but forward.

We are willing to be discriminated upon, because in order to call ourselves lesbians we had to be swept off our feet by women, we went against all odds and lived lives that contradicted all the previous myths, about what is expected of us and what is normal or right.

Because those are our love stories.

Have a rocking weekend! #TGIF


Living life on the dark skinned fat lane;

I have decided to boycott some men. Turns out it is true that indeed men are from Mars and women are from Venus. First of all, I have never read that book and I am not intending to. I read its preview and decided that I don’t require all that negative energy in my brain.

I thought we, the women of this world are complicated.

Clearly, I had not met this new breed of blatantly misogynistic men. The ones that come up with thesis after thesis about how the perfect female should look like.

What is even more stupefying about most of them is that they have no girlfriends, they are short, have potbellies the size of five rugby balls, live with their mums, have zero amount in their bank account, and masturbate their tiny willys to the sounds of crickets in their backyard.

So let me take this leap to address the dark skinned women who are labeled as fat and ugly in this deity-heavy men world.

I know that you have read a lot of self-help books about self image but I will write anyway. I am the self proclaimed queen of women issues, remember? But then again, you are better off reading another cliché blog than reading those knock-knock jokes, yes?

I hate reading self help books more than the average human because I know a fast money making scheme when I see one. I mean, all you need to do is coin a very catchy book title like how to make money when while sleeping and voila! You have a raging best-seller under your also very catchy name.

Ever realized how world renowned authors have very divine names? Names that seduce you into swiping your way to brokelane…these peeps add a lot of sexiness to their previous dull and boring names. Like a Robert suddenly transforms himself to Roberta, Mary is now Marilyn. Hell, Imma write a book myself!

The more I visualize myself in a penthouse indulging in sex orgies the more I wonder where I am doing this blog thingie wrong.

Back to today’s topic; we all have moments when we feel stressed out, bouts of depression hits us in places we never thought existed in our bodies before but as women, we know our body flaws and we flaunt them like obsessed bitches, we know the inaccuracy of every weighing scale in the face of this earth.

We know when we have gained superfluous Kilograms but we don’t care, we know high heels will maim our backs before we are forty but so what? We don’t give a rat’s ass either.

What I find intriguing is that there is a group of whole grown ass men who misuse their employer’s internet the whole day yapping about their ideal kind of woman and discussing about how ugly our female genitalia is. There is no other word for it except stupid.

If I want a body like beyonce’s, I will work out a treadmill like a demented creature, but not because of some poll conducted by idle men. Preserve the minerals in your brain and write a book about women instead since you seem to know so much about us, and while at it success and luck in reaching page number 3.

These men will floor us by reminding us how in our twenties, Julie Gichuru looks younger than us yet she has gazillion babies. We really love her, but that’s just about it.

Our body fat cells multiply just by smelling fries a Kilometre away.

Our bodies are different as heaven and hell and we accepted this long since we hit puberty. Your constant reminder just serves to show that you have stuff to sort out in your esteem issues department because while you bitch about it, we are having lunch dates at Pizza inn with our girlfriends.

Another amusing group is the women who worship these men like they are some kind of genius. They will aaw and oohh to anything they say.

A dude will say something like, ‘I am eating an apple’ and the chics will say something like ‘aaaawww you are so clever you eat apples!! Marry me!’ No wonder marriage therapists are extremely rich.

I dont have an English word to describe these ones.

And now dear brothers, look at the pictures below,

Do you look anything close to that?
Well, go hang then.

This is for the lesbians above thirty| a guide.

And it is a difficult post to write because I am not thirty and age is not a topic women do during their pep talks. Lesbians talk about weight loss, calories, nips and tucks, padded bras, sports bras, money, sex, (particularly in that order).

I was having a chat with a lesbian woman above thirty. I won’t disclose her exact age for fear of eerm, I am looking for a very big word…yes that word. You know the one that gets you jailed for five years? Yes that one.
I am always talking about going to prison, in and outside this blog life. I googled this one and found out that there is no official registered fear of going to jail. Really? There seems to be all kinds of phobias and this one was made just for me urgh. There is actually one called vagina dentata; an abnormal fear literally of female genitalia and the vulva.

I don’t know what you live for if you don’t eat pussy.

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Back to the topic in hand, ladies ladies; by this age you have sampled all the lesbians, you compliment strangers on their looks, you have a dozen strapless sun dresses, you have discovered the secret to longevity, you are all outdoorsy and confident, you are deep in your career or whatever you have going on, No?
What I am trying to say is, you have seen it all. You are mature and you don’t give a fuck about who cares or who doesn’t.

HOWEVER, there is the little question of marriage. Okay BIG question of marriage.

When you wear your little strapless sun dresses, I bet many of those times are to attend to your cousins or friends weddings right? And in those weddings there are other married cousins, right? The said cousins have mothers and those mothers are your aunts, and we know they all have a Master’s Degree in biological clock studies, yes?

Now, let me give you some lessons on surviving Aunt’s (let’s call her aunt Beth) blabbermouth. Also, I regret and deeply repent my sins of using the name Beth to all my dear readers who goes by the same name. (There is no single Beth I know, and I trust me I know a lot of women).

Like a skipping CD she gives you a painful headache. She pushes all your mental buttons day after day. She tests your patience, and patience is something we, the lesbian folks weren’t given in abundance. We want to get a quick lay the first time we are in a confined space with our crush, touch and go generation redefined.

You see, Aunt Beth identify herself as ‘motherly’. She tells you all the things your mother won’t tell you. My said friend above told me her aunt even told her how many times a husband expects sex in a day. She also went ahead and told her how to space it out. She had clearly underestimated the motherly power of her aunt. Severely.
They say the first step to helping yourself is admitting you have a problem, but what if your problem is with your Aunt Beth?

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You are a regular woman doing okay in life, you set your goals and fulfill them, you make new year resolutions and stick to them, you drink eight glasses of water a day, you make to do lists and abide by them, you don’t have mismatched socks, no road rage and drunk dialing your first girlfriend who is now married with five kids…you have it all together.

Except the existential crisis that is Aunt Beth. This is the only bugging issue you can’t fix? Is it?
Here is the thing; it is not. Aunt Beth is obsessed over you; Heaven forbid maybe she is a closet lesbian even. Study Aunt Beth carefully; does she spend her days yapping about her husband, his wayward libido and drunken ways? Does she complain about her kids and what a waste they are? Does she seem depressed about anything and everything in her family?

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You are the perfect child she never had. She is just a jealous bitch.

Now, use her family against her. No parent wants to hear about her reckless child from another person.
Don’t be afraid about observing respect and existence of superpowers that can strike you dead the minute you stand her off. I mean, children have been disrespectful to their aunts since 1700BC, Come on!

Tell her that you are okay with yourself and what a true blessing it is. In fact, take this opportunity and come out to her. Tell her you dived into the lesbian world in your formative years and nothing, not even the holy communion wafers can change that. Tell her there is nothing she can change about you and you can only get better and better at loving women.

The fact that she disrespects you to keep reminding you what a disgrace you are because you are husbandless is reason enough to make you say to her categorically and equivocally that you know her whole marriage is a scam and a sham. It is like those newspaper lifestyle features you read and know for sure they can’t be real. The journalist is just interviewing her friends and passing it off as a trend. You won’t and can’t get into the marriage thingie with a hubby to please anyone.

You see where I am getting with this? Great! Now start practising it in front of your TV.

Come back and tell me how it goes when the face off happens. You can’t plagiarize my work like that and refuse to give me credit for it 😀