Forget the Bending. Who’s Doing the Choosing?: Notes on Black Queer Femmes Acting on Their Desires

This is much deeper than being "the prize". Set the rules for the entire competition, my loves!

Pride Month is over and Leo season has officially started. This means we are in the full swing of summer and the budding flings that come with being outside, beautiful, and sweaty. With the increase of potential love connections also comes the possibility of feeling rejected and left out. I recently watched a Tiktok of a stunning Black femme speaking to the phenomenon of Black femmes not being hit on at queer events. Charmee, the tiktoker, goes on to affirm the unapproached hot girls that they are indeed hot and their treatment is just a part of “fruity dynamics". It seems like since I scrolled into the video on my timeline, I’ve been seeing these “fruity dynamics” play out more and more in Gay media. For example, we witnessed this form of chaotic decision making on the latest season of The Ultimatum: Queer Love. Britney, the only Black femme on the show, wasn't chosen by any of the other remaining non-black suitors. Which felt like a set up from jump considering the casting of only one Black couple and one lone dark skinned Black woman. I haven’t turned the show back on since watching the incredibly awkward dinner play out. But I must say, I think Black femmes need something more potent than being told that this is just how the pretty femme queer girl cookie crumbs. Or to rest on just being too beautiful to handle. 

Be it the relentless colorism, heteronormativity, or femmephobia present in party spaces and dating apps– there are many reasons why Black femmes are rightfully lamenting not being flirted with at LGBTQIA+ events or wherever we find ourselves looking fine, moisturized, single and ready to mingle. Unfortunately the corniness of people playing indifferent in our presence while also being deeply attracted to a range of Black femmes can be heightened in queer spaces because of the added assumption that Black femmes don’t look queer enough. I’ve even heard people go as far as referring to Black femme women as “straight-passing”. Which really pisses me off. Especially because I’ve only heard that term tossed at Black women who are openly lesbian, queer, or bi-sexual. Imagine doing all the heavy lifting that comes with being able to name your sexuality as a Black woman only for someone, most times masc presenting queer folks, to hear you claim your sexuality and follow up with referring to you as “straight-passing”. When in actuality, I’ve found that how queer I look as a Black femme isn’t really the problem. Most times there is an internalized unnamed insecurity being wielded over Black queer folks where we are constantly measuring our presentation and gender performance up against the standards of masculine patriarchy even in spaces where there are no cis-men present. I call this presence “the feds in your head”. W.E.B. Du Bois called it “double consciousness”. But as Black lesbians and queer people, double isn’t big enough. 

So how do we hold all of this while trying to love each other and move beyond being "chosen" at first glance at the function? God forbid the people we are in community with listen and believe Black femmes when we outwardly claim our queerness through our words, desires, and actions. Even when we aren’t sporting a septum piercing or wearing a pair of heavy ass Dr. Martens. I would love to break it to you that there are indeed other types of passionately Black lesbians than The Stud. 

Black femme expression is an othered gender in spite of our sexuality. 

Black womanhood is an othered gender because of our gender as well. 

Black femme expression is queered by the audacity of its existence in a society that routinely attempts to erase our claim to our humanity as well as our femininity. And most times, our queerness and lesbian identity goes far beyond the aesthetics of queerness and queer visibility to also include a verbal declaration of lesbain desire which I would argue is just as powerful and dangerous as the presentation of queerness through masculine forward androgyny. In fact, I often witness queer and lesbian femmes being the most vocal when it comes to formulating queerness as a teachable radical politic as well as creative process to explore self-preservation, community care, and non-male focused desire. 

But with all disrespect, fuck just being a baddie who waits around to be chosen anyway. I’m here to encourage us to make a home in a different kind of Black queer femme potentiality. In our big abundant world of dykin’, I want us to understand that you get to choose. Even if you aren’t doing the bending, you should still be using your femme powers to pick and choose who gets to be your next kissing partner, one night stand, or long term lover. 

My favorite pick up line has always been “Hi. My name is Amber.” I present the line with an open hand, soft yet direct eye contact, and a warm, sometimes seductive smile if the moment calls for it. I owe my natural charisma to being an Ohioan raised by church ladies. But it’s easy to trigger it when I’m dressed to my standard of personal style and comfort. Leaving the house in a good outfit never fails to make me feel comfortable being seen and helps me to land the attention of most of the people I’m curious about getting to know…good and bad. But above all else, when I’m out in the world looking for love, fun, friends, or even new opportunities, I always put myself in the mindset of being the one who will be doing the choosing.  

I didn’t come out until I was almost 30 years old. And the biggest difference I took note of while learning to navigate Black LGBTQ+ social gatherings is that our spaces are the perfect place to free yourself of the deeply problematic notion that you should be waiting for suitors to come to you!

You, even as an intimidating unfriendly Black femme hottie, can pursue what you have an eye for.

You, the cutie pie in pink gloss, can be the one to start off conversations of desire and consent.

The expansiveness of queerness, should you choose to accept it, includes being able to boldly go after what you want with clarity regardless of your gender presentation. Especially when you’re prepared to accept a “No.” with grace, unlike these terrible ass men. I also urge you to hear a “No.” as just a “No.” and not an accusation of being undesirable. And to use the power of your “No.” as well to move on unburden to find who and what wants you too. 

I use my queerness as a guide to make room for wide decision making informed by my wants, needs, and desires. Moreover, as a lesbian I’ve decided that I will define myself for myself and this doesn’t only apply to my gender and sexuality but how I choose to wholly embody my humanity. As Black femmes, choosing our love interests can be the first step in naming how we want to be treated in our romantic interactions, determining what kind of sex we want to be having, and ultimately how we want to embody our queerness with our partners and ourselves. 

Some common straight girl platitudes I hear when I talk about coming out as lesbian in my 30s is, “I hate men but I love d*ck too much!” or “I hate men but I don’t think I can go down on a woman.” Even with straight women who are allegedly de-centering men, they still can’t manage to imagine their sexual lives beyond said men. Because they have been forced to make peace with having unpleasurable sex and emotionally unfulfilling relationships with men, they assume that will also be a requirement in a sexual relationship with women and/or non-cis men. If straight women would actually take an interest in knowing more about de-centering men from lesbians and queer folks instead of just straight women who only take on the topic of de-centering men to sell clothing trends, hypergamy or patriarchal analysis that stops right before a real conversation on compulsory heterosexuality, they would discover that even with a woman, you can have whatever type of sex you find pleasurable. You don’t have to perform cunnilingus if that’s what you and an intimate partner decide. And if you want d*ck, you can actually customize that experience down to the color, size, and texture. There’s so much more to lesbian relationships than studs, femmes, straps, touch-me-nots, and pillow princess. Given the fact that all that exists, why wouldn’t you assume that there’s even more where that came from? But more importantly, that you can choose, change your mind and choose again.