Happy Pride my fellow lesbians

By Mbali Toyana

The Oxford dictionary defines penchant (n) as a strong inclination, taste or liking for something. My “something” happens to be women. I adore women. Passionately and indiscriminately. I love different sorts of women and I love different things about them. I love powerful women. I love sensitive women. I love them young and old. I love how sensual they are. The way they smell. I love that they carry burdens on their shoulders with grace and dignity. I love that through all the hardships and adversity they maintain their effervescent beauty. I love their soft lips that have the capacity of whispering sweet nothings on frisky night to mending a broken heart the very next day. I love their bodies with the captivating hills and valleys that speak of intrinsically unfathomable narratives of past and present authenticities. I love making love to women. Oh yes, I am a woman who loves other women.

As a carefree, expressive and headstrong 16-year-old, I knew that the closet was too confined a space for me. I had to get out or I would be stifled to a slow and agonisingly painful and premature death. We live in a society which dictates, through socialisation and various other social processes that as a girl, you grow up and at a certain age you marry your prince in silver foil, move on to your picket-fenced house or as it were, your 24-hour security laden townhouse complex and have your 2.4 kids (maybe with a divorce on the horizon). Although this was the cultural construct of my role as a woman and the parameters in which my life was defined, this “charming” picture did not ring true to my authentic self. It was in this context then that I penned my dearest mother my coming out letter. Alas, no husband in sight here, mother dear. But, before you write me off, I promise to bring home the most beautiful of all daughters-in-law that I can find (which I did, in case you’re wondering).

Imagine to my shock and horror when my mom expressed no shock and no horror. She knew all along. She went on to categorically explain my witlessness at thinking that she would give birth to me and somehow not know this. That was it. No shouting, no banal questions about whether this had anything to do with my upbringing, no threats of being disowned for being a lesbian and absolutely no orders thrown at me to “stop” being lesbian, or else. That really is how it went. Anti-climax right? Well, as appreciated as that gesture was, the reality of this scared me to no end. I had spat in the face of society. Moreover, I was, supposedly, a deviant child absorbed in abhorrent behaviour. The unending trips to the headmistress’s office on account of my sexuality confirmed this. The perpetual stares I got enforced it. The down-cast shaking of the head at the mere mention of my lesbianism made me hell bent on embracing and claiming this part of me. And I have indeed.

Just to set the record straight. I am not into sycophantism. “Oh, you are a lesbian, that’s nice. My sister was one in the 80s.” So, should I jump about in song and dance? It’s all so contrite, pedantic and really unnecessary. Furthermore, just because I am a lesbian does not mean that you can ask me personal questions like how we as lesbians engage in coital relations. Quite frankly it is invasive and downright rude. Even after downing a bottle of Jack Daniels I will still find that question offensive. I might actually be tempted to slap you right back into your senses. And no, you genius, my sleeping with other women does not mean that I have some inherent psychological need to be a man and as perplexing as this is, joining you in the sack (heaven forbid) for a thorough shag will not turn me straight. I feel that I should further add that I am not inflicted with some unpronounceable malady. Lesbianism is not contagious. You cannot “catch” it by being in the same space as me. I appreciate it if you are against homosexuality for whatever reason. Our progressive Constitution ensures and protects such rights, just as it protects me to live my life the way I see fit. A word of caution to Bible-bashers; quoting the Bible and flagrantly manipulating it for your own anti-homosexual beliefs is a flawed way of argument. Moving along; sleeping in the same bed as me will not make you queer. Much like it will not happen if I see you naked. I am not a raging lesbian who will not stop at anything to bed you. Trust me and, lest you forget, there are more women in South Africa than there are men. Lastly, and it is by no means less important. If I hear another Einstein ask me one more time who the “man” in the relationship is, I am ready to hand myself over to Pretoria C-Max for what I might do. What is it about two women (emphasis added here for said Einstein) in a relationship that makes you think, for a second, that there is a man or a need for a man? My breasts? My well-accentuated behind? My child-bearing hips? My phenomenal womanness?

While my sexuality does not form the central or core of my identity, it is a significant part of me. When I introduce myself, it is not “Hi, I am Mbali and I am a lesbian”. I am a proud black female professional. In addition to this, I am a daughter, sister, friend and lover with infinite dreams. My predilection for women, therefore fits somewhere within the multitude of dichotomies and idiosyncrasies that make the whole. It is not the whole. The celebrated annual SA Pride will come and go leaving many of us with the stark realities that face the gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, intersex (GLBTI) community. From now on, try remembering this; every day is heterosexual pride day and since this is the accepted norm, there exists no need to question, doubt or explain yourself. The opposite is true for many of the GLBTI community. Think of those who spend most of their lives in denial or running away from this aspect of their lives. Those who have been rejected by friends and family and ostracised by their larger communities. Those who cannot love completely and openly because of fear and restraint. For some of us, the world is not black and white and neither is it an issue of Adam and Eve. Life is a sea of continuums. It is diverse and fluid, just like sexuality. For some of us, this is the only and best way to live. That is, being true to the self and accepting of the whole.

To acceptance, self-love and Pride. Happy Pride to my fellow GLBTI community!

Mbali Toyana is the research programme manager at the National Labour and Economic Development Institute