Malditera: Newborns and all that drama.

Was running through my Google Reader and looking for other lesbian blogs -- in order to be able to make sense of my recent breakup -- when I noticed something. Both male and female gays are generally...well, angry.

Never did understand it when I was trying to live a straight life, although the need to comprehend it surfaces now. Part of the reason is how societies generally look at gay people. We are defensive because the uninformed persist in thinking that homosexuality is a curable disease. (At some point, I wanted to strangle a colleague for being so stubbornly ignorant, despite the fact that she is surrounded by gay people.)

Part of it, methinks, is self-generated. A few lesbian friends told me the reason why they couldn't trust me to be faithful is that most "newborns" (this is what my friends call the newly converted/discovered lesbians) don't end up with their "maker". The "maker" is the person they became a lesbian for. If you've seen The L Word, Marina was the maker while Jenny was her newborn. Notice that we're actually using vampire lingo as reference for this little scenario?

What they never take into consideration is this: Most makers "create" newborns because of some life-altering decision they haven't come to terms with themselves. Like vampires, they sort of transfer all that drama into their newborns. If the newborn is fairly young and immature, she won't be able to handle the drama and ends up...like the psycho Jenny. (Most younger lesbians I know hate their makers.) The more mature ones will try to hold on to the relationship, though at some point, they'd have to come to terms with the fact that the maker merely exists to trigger their initiation. The birth of their real selves. The maker, then, is transitional. Temporary. There's someone out there more stable and have come to terms with all her issues. But with lesbians being women, and therefore prone to irrational bursts of emotion, searching for that someone can be as disheartening as the search for the Holy Grail.

Where does this leave me? Well, I am old enough to know that I am too tired for all that drama. Don't want to think. No longer consider myself a newborn either, though I haven't slept with anyone else but her. Would rather search for myself than search for the right answers. Because there are no right answers.