Lez Bro

TNG is taking a much needed break from Dec 19-Jan 4. TNG will return with new content on Jan 5. Until then, please enjoy this post from the past year. Original publish date: 10/08/08.

Ben and Coach at Solly's for a photo shoot regarding a TNG MetroWeekly story.

I’ve never been much of a ladies man.

I have a great relationship with my mom and my sister, and I’ve had deep and fulfilling friendships with a few female friends in college, yet I’ve never felt the consistent need to seek the company of women as sources of comfort or friendship. This is particularly true in the years since moving to the district. In nearly 10 years as a DC resident, I’ve only had one substantial relationship with a woman (we are still friends, yet we rarely speak since she moved to NYC to become a famous cupcake maker). As a gay man, I realize my history with women makes me both typical and atypical, depending on whether the women in question are straight or gay.


Gay men and straight women have long been natural allies. The reasons each has found security in the other’s company are many, with the most cited being the process of elimination--it's difficult to be friends with the people you want to fuck (or who want to fuck you). However, this bond between gay men and women seems to fray when the women aren't heterosexual. For this paradox, I don't yet have an explanation that satisfies me.

I find it unfortunate that I rarely see gay men hanging out with gay women. The few female friends I’ve had great relationships with are the independent, intelligent, kick-ass types that have brought out the best in me, and most of these women are either lesbians or bisexuals. It’s from these ladies and the amazing gay women I’ve met recently that I draw much of my positive regard for women, and my own history and the limited state of our gay/lesbian union leads me to believe that the gay brotherhood is much poorer for being strangers to the gay sisterhood. And vice versa.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to see the lack of women in my life as more of a failure than a personal preference. The need for balance in every aspect of life becomes more evident as I’ve put distance between my current self and the full throttle deviance of my gay 20s, which did not require the company of women in the slightest. In being more open to meeting women, spending time with them, and enjoying the rewards of their charming company, I’ve recognized that my yen needs their yang in order to be a more balanced human being. While I’ve recently had some success developing friendships with heterosexual women, I’m particularly interested in connecting with lesbians, mainly because I find them more interesting and assume that I may have more in common with them. Unfortunately, in my efforts to become more of a friend to gay females, I often feel as frustrated as a 16-year old straight boy in figuring out how to relate to them.

I’ve made an effort to attend a few lesbian events in the past few months, and I’ve noticed a communications code that eludes me. Conversations are often awkward and I typically sense a lack of ease and trust (in both me and the women) that I suspect is hard wired into the historical relationship between both groups as they exist in this city. It’s a strange tension that seems to imply that we don’t know what to do with each other. Also, I’m not a feminine man, yet with many lesbians I sometimes get the sense that no matter how restrained I am when saying hello, goodbye, or attempting conversation, I’m never quite butch enough to connect on their level. On more than one occasion I’ve left interactions feeling like a female wanted me to understand the ease in which they could crush me against their forehead like a beer can...and those are just the girls who liked me (I think so, anyway). One girl, on two separate occasions (the same girl at two different bars on two separate occasions) “stepped to me” as if she wanted to fuck my shit up, for no other reason than being in her way, and possibly for being a man (maybe she remembered me from our previous encounter, when I was slow to back down from all 5’3 inches of her fury as she was leaving BeBar). Through TNG I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know (some more than others) the five truly exceptional lady gays who blog for this site, yet even around them I’m unsure of how I should relate. I’m beginning to realize this will take more thought and effort on my part if I’m going to succeed at having more gay women in my life.

Through TNG I’ve been a part of an attempt to create a forum for gays and lesbians to talk about issues and opinions and share stories about our lives (somewhat successful) and bring gay men and women together under the same roof to socialize and have fun (less successful). Among these efforts, I’ve seen personal progress in my attempt to be a lez bro (male friend of a lesbian). I’m not nearly as awkward anymore, and when I went to Phase 1 a few weeks ago for the Phasefest music festival, it felt good to know several of the women in attendance and spend time in a gay venue where I was the gender minority yet still had a great time.

Unfortunately, some of the male friends I brought to Phasefest didn’t share my appreciation. While I met some very nice women and felt a significant amount of goodwill from them, two of my friends saw little more than anger manifested in multiple forms, be it the music, the spoken word, or the crowd. One friend told me, “on a typical Friday night out, gay guys will just laugh, be goofy, and make fun of people. But all I see here is anger.” I didn’t know what to tell them, because a small part of me sensed this veneer of rage as well, and was also turned off. Later in the night, after my friends left for Remington’s, DJ Natty Boom started to spin dance music (buy a mix CD from her…she is mad talented) and the floor quickly turned into a hoppin’ dance party packed with ladies. From my perch by the DJ booth I saw three of the TNG ladies dancing in the center of the floor, and my immediate inclination was to run into the center of this great energy and act the fool, but I didn’t. I resisted because a central part of me said that a 6’2 gay guy in a camouflage tank-top probably wouldn’t be welcomed among this crowd. Maybe I was wrong, but in that moment, it was how I felt.

I was moved by Ms. Cavanaugh's post last week about the relationship between queer men and women. I also found it unfortunate that for the many comments it inspired, so few of them directly tried to answer the question of whether or not it is possible for us to be less segregated and more involved in each others lives, instead of being bonded only through our sexual inclination towards members of the same sex. The general sentiment in the comment thread seems to be that we should accept that at best we don’t have a desire to be around each other, and at worst can’t stand each other. I had hoped for better.

A large slice of TNG energy and idealism has been directed towards creating stronger bonds between the lesbian and gay community, yet Ms. Cavanaugh, the rest of the TNG team and I seem to keep hitting a wall. We’ve expended considerable energy trying to get more women to write for TNG, going into the community and spreading the word that we want not only a multitude of voices (who are good writers) but the creation of social spaces where men and women and queer persons of color (QPOCs) can connect with one another. While we’ve had some success, we seem to receive more community criticism than community involvement. I admit, at times I wonder why we even bother.

While morale in this particular area is low among TNG staff, we’re not ready to give up. We’re currently planning to redouble our efforts to attract more full-time contributors (one well written post a week, please) and occasional contributors who represent a broad spectrum of race, gender, ideology, and thoughtful opinion (if not always civil, unfortunately). We are also planning events (we really need your involvement with planning) that bring us together in both bar/non-bar environments, so that we can hopefully become better acquainted, should we decide to meet each other half way.

Only time will tell if our efforts are a fool’s folly, but ultimately I know there is only one person that I’ve got to win over: me. Ultimately, it is my choice to push myself out of my comfort zone and try to learn about, better understand, and connect with lesbians, or stay disconnected and out of touch with the entirety of their community. It is my choice to let women in to my life, or shut them out. The same is true for all of us, regardless of gender.

This is a personal journey, but my hope, and TNG’s hope, is that you also make it your own.